Unlovable
by the Last Flowerchild
Summary: After a freezing concert in Norway, Dethklok finally comes across just what the band needs-a rhythm guitarist. They find this in Toki Wartooth, a young, ignorant 19 year-old. Pickles/Toki SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

****WARNINGS****

**Slash, drug/alcohol usage, bad language.**

**If you don't like, don't read.**

****DISCLAIMER****

**Nope, I don't own any characters except Sarah & Thora.**

_**Anyways, reviews are love.**_

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

"_Ghosts crowd the young child's,_

_Fragile eggshell mind..."_

_~~Jim Morrison[the Doors], Ghost Song_

_**P R O L O G U E**_

Pickles hated to think of her. He hated to think of the good little Sarah Simon, with her long, brown hair and her cool, surveying blue eyes that he had loved so much as a child...he hated her. It was odd to think that he had ever loved anyone, but of course Sarah Simon had come before he'd stopped believing in all that childish, 'there's someone for everyone' bullshit. There was nobody for him. There never would be. He used to believe, though, that Sarah was the one for him.

How stupid he'd been.

He'd made a damn fool of himself the day he'd talked to Sarah. Thinking about it to this day made him turn red and shift uncomfortably in his seat. It had happened so long ago, when he was almost seven years old, in Tomahawk. He was young, stupid, and just beginning to drink. Needless to say, the combination of his father's stash of alcohol and Sarah's girlish charm were a disastrous combination for him.

He was walking home from school when she talked to him. "Hey, Pickles!" she called. "Wait up!" and she came hurrying to catch up with him. Once she had, she dumped her school books in his arms then asked, "Mind carrying them for me?"

Pickles shook his head. "Na."

Sarah smiled sweetly. "Good. Thanks." there was an awkward pause then she repeated, "Hi, Pickles."

"Yeah...um..." he swallowed. "Hi, Sarah."

"I heard—we all heard—about how you blew up your parent's garage. Everyone's talking about it at school. Is that true?"

Pickles felt his face grow red. He hadn't blow up the garage, his stupid brother Seth had, but if it made Sarah like him more, then hell—maybe he _did _torch the thing after all. "Uh...yeah."

"Wow," she said, her pale blue eyes growing wide. "That's _really _cool."

"Yeah, I guess." he said, feeling his face grow hot. He really did like Sarah for some reason. She made him feel..._weird. _

"Yeah," she continued, reaching for his hand. "And guess what?"

"Huh?"

"Everyone also said that they saw you down at the park yesterday—_drinking!"_

Pickles bit his lip as he remembered how many beers he'd stolen from his father. After his parents had blamed him for burning down that stupid garage, he'd gotten the worst beating in his life. Not knowing what to do, he just did what he always saw his dad doing—he had a beer. He'd never drank before that day, and he was surprised to find that although he didn't care much for the taste, he loved the way it burned on its way down his throat, made his insides feel warm. Yeah, he liked beer a lot now thanks to his parents.

Still, he wasn't sure if Sarah would like to know this, so he asked obliviously, "I...what? Is that good or bad?"

Sarah giggled and answered. "Good, it's definitely good. It means you're like a grown-up or something. You wanna hold my hand?"

He realized that she was tightly squeezing his wrist and shrugged. "I dunno. I guess." and she slipped her hand into his.

There was a long moment of silence as they walked down the street together. Pickles was quickly growing tired of holding Sarah's books, but oh well. She was worth it. Besides, he was quite sure that something very good was about to happen. He didn't know _what _kind of something good, only that it would be something he would remember. He was too young to really understand how all this stuff worked, but as Sarah began talking again he started to get a pretty good idea.

"If you get me a beer, I'll be your girlfriend."

"G-Girlfriend?" Pickles turned a deep red. He wasn't sure exactly what she meant by this, only that he'd seen Seth with a few of his middle-school girlfriends...they kissed a lot. He wanted to get kissed, so he nodded and said quietly, "Yeah, okay. Sure."

He was a quiet kid. Before today he had never had that many friends, and Sarah had never bothered to talk to him before...what was so great about him now? Pickles had no clue, but he went along with it anyway, because in a moment Sarah was leading him in the direction of her house and saying, "Good. Go get me a beer and hurry up."

"But my dad's home. What if he-"

"Pickles, do you want me to be your girlfriend or not?" she asked.

"Well yeah, but-"

"Then go get me a beer. _Now."_

He sighed and looked down, his green eyes full of fear. If his father caught him even home early...his dad hit him over anything. He didn't want to go home and face him, but maybe he was asleep, taking a nap...maybe...

"Okay, I'll go for you, Sarah."

"Good," She said, grinning. "And when you bring me back a beer I'll give you a kiss."

Pickles smiled a little. "Oh. Okay. I'll be right back."

He put his school books down on Sarah's porch and hurried down the street to his house. He didn't live far, but Sarah didn't seem like a patient kind of girl. He quietly opened the door to his house, peeked inside, then hurried to the kitchen. From upstairs there came the sound of his father's deep snoring, and Pickles knew that it was okay now. He could burn down the garage—or what remained of it—and his father still wouldn't wake up. The man could've probably slept thru the Holocaust if he'd been there.

Pickels rushed to open the fridge. He didn't hesitate to hurry and grab a couple of beers, trying desperately to keep quiet. This was so stupid, so insane. If his he got caught doing this, who knew what his father would do...for Sarah he'd do anything.

After he'd grabbed them, he bolted out of the house, not even bothering to close the fridge as he left. He found Sarah sitting on the steps of her house, looking quite bored. She snatched the beer Pickles handed her and snapped, "It's about time. I've been waiting here for-"

"It's only been five minutes," he answered sheepishly.

"Five minutes that I could've spent somewhere else," she muttered moodily, shaking up the beer can. She glared at it and asked, "How do you open it? You have to open things for your girlfriend, Pickles."

"I do?"

"Well duh! Don't be an idiot, of course you do! Haven't you ever had a girlfriend before?" Sarah asked, rolling her pale eyes.

"Y-Yeah I have!" Pickles answered, turning red all over again.

"Then here." she handed him back the can of beer and demanded, "Open it for me."

He opened it and passed it back over to here. "Here," he said, opening his as well. He took a long, deep sip from it and sighed in content. Sarah frowned at this and shook her head.

"I never said that _you _could have one."

"But I-"

"No, give it here." she held out her hand, and Pickles passed her the can, looking downcast.

"But Sarah-"

"Shut up," she said, pouring out Pickles' beer. "If you were a _really _good boyfriend you'd know that girls don't like guys who drink. Besides, you're always supposed to let the girl drink first. Everyone knows that, so there."

Pickles frowned. "But what if I _want _to drink?"

"That's too bad. You should've asked me before you—"

Suddenly the door to Sarah's house opened and her mother stepped outside. She took one look at her the can of beer in her daughter's hand and gasped. "Sarah Marie, what the hell do you think you're doing drinking that stuff? It's bad, honey, it's very bad!"

Sarah's eyes welled up with tears as she pointed to Pickles. "It wasn't me! He gave it to me, mommy, he stole it from his daddy and tried to make me drink it!"

He shook his head and blurted, "No I didn't! I swear!"

"Yes, mamma," Sarah insisted. "He did and now he's lying about it. Please make him go away, please punish him! He's a bad boy and always steals his daddy's beer! He said it tasted good so I...I..." she glared at Pickles and said, tears welling up in her eyes, "He's such a mean, horrible boy. I hate him."

And just like that, Pickles' fantasy was over. He was in trouble.

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

Of course Sarah's mother believed her own daughter over the frantically shouting Pickles. He begged the woman not to take him home, begged her not to wake his father, begged her not to tell him what had happened...he pleaded and pleaded and sobbed all the while she was dragging him home. He fought every step of the way, trying to break free of the iron grip she had on his wrist. She never let go, though, never relinquished.

Pickles was dragged home. In front of Mrs. Simon, his father acted more than civil, said that he'd discipline his son, told her, 'No, of course that kind of behavior is not acceptable; it will never happen again, I promise. Yes, of course I'm on your side. Please tell Sarah not to worry, that we're all very sorry. Thank you and have a nice day.' But of course once Sarah's mother had gone out the door, Pickles father turned to his son, a deadly gleam in his eye.

"What the fuck did you think were doing, boy?"

"I'm sorry, dad, I-"

"Stealing my liquor...drinking my _beer..."_

Pickles looked down to the floor and whispered, "I'm sorry." and, desperate to make things right, he added, "I barley drank any of it, just a sip or two..."

But it didn't really matter. He knew it didn't. His father still gave him a good beating and sent him right to his bed. Before Pickles managed to haul himself upstairs to his room, Seth found him and asked, a grin on his face, "Oh, little brother got beat up again?"

"Get outta my way, Seth."

"What's little bother gonna do? Huh?" he edged nearer Pickles, making him shrink back against the wall and look down, trying to cover his bruising face. "Gonna go have yourself a beer, you idiot? Did you really think you wouldn't get caught? I'm just pissed 'cause _I _wanted to be the one to tell on you. God, you're a stupid fucker, you know that?"

"Leave me alone, Seth," Pickles said, pushing past his brother. "I don't need you. Just get out of my life."

"You're gonna go cry? Huh?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I never cry."

But surely enough, as soon as he slammed the door to his room and threw himself on his bed, he _did _cry. He sobbed and begged for God—if there was one—to take him away and make Sarah love him...make _anyone _love him. He switched on the T.V. And watched thru blurry, tear-filled eyes as the stupid celebrities were interviewed and talked about their stupid, dumb lives. Happy lives. Carefree lives. In the back of his mind Pickles wished for that kind of happiness, but he also wondered how somewhere in this world there could be people smiling and not crying, how they could find meaning and joy in this stupid life. He wondered how they had found their happiness, and then he realized that if he had Sarah with him right now he might just be happy. Pickles sighed and buried his face in a pillow. He laid like that, the words of the celebrities on the television pounding into his brain. It was right then, as he shut his eyes tightly against the darkness of his room and hugged a pillow, that he decided that one day _he'd _be famous, and he'd make everyone sorry. He'd everyone jealous. Seth, his father—Sarah. He wanted to take her with him before he ran away to become a star. Pickles sat up in his bed and sniffled. He turned towards his window and thought...a slow, small smile crept across his face. If his father didn't want him to leave the house, that was fine. He'd sneak out himself.

He may've only been six years old—almost seven—but he realized that he really did like Sarah and didn't just want to lose her like this. He wanted to be able to talk to her and stuff, even if most girls were still gross to him...Sarah was different. She was pretty and had a nice laugh. He liked that. That's what made him do the stupidest thing he ever did in his life; Pickles opened his second-story window, glanced down, and climbed out. There were hedges below his window, and thankfully he wasn't all that terrified of heights, so he fell into the bushes and rolled out quietly, careful not to make too much noise. Before running down the street to Sarah's house, Pickles glanced inside of the dining room window, watched as his parents and Seth laughed and talked, the perfect vision of an everyday Amercian family..._they _seemed happy without him.

Swallowing down all his sorrow, Pickles began his slow pilgrimage down the street, his hands in his pockets and his head hung low against the biting September cold. Around his feet leaves swirled and blew, frightened off the btanches of their trees by the early autumn. He bit his lip. Maybe running away wasn't such a good idea after all...

As he approached Sarah's house, he hesitated before picking up a little rock. Not really knowing what else to do—or why he was really here in the first place—he launched it up at a window. He wasn't sure where Sarah's room was, so it was a blind, careless shot. By some miracle it made its point, and in a moment the window opened and Sarah was staring down at him from her second-story room.

"Pickles? You idiot, what are you doing here?"

He shrugged, tried to act indifferent to her harsh words. "I'm running away."

"Are you _crying?"_

He opened his mouth then closed it again. Pressing a hand to his cheek, he wiped at a tear that had been snaking its way down his face; his face blushed and he retorted, "No, I'm not. I never cr-"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I told you, I'm-"

"No," Sarah cut in, her voice snappish and annoyed. "I mean why are you waking me up before running away?"

Pickles smiled up at her and responded sweetly, "You wanna come with me?"

She laughed coldly and her pale eyes reflected the distant light of the moon as she hissed, "Do I want to come with you? Pickles, we're just kids. That's stupid. You don't even know me."

"I know I love you."

"We're just kids," she repeated, "only grown-ups can fall in love."

Pickles frowned as he considered this. After a long moment of thought, he said, "But I wanna take you with me. C'mon, we'll have a lot of fun, I swear. I'm gonna be famous one day, and we'll be rich, and-"

"You really are an idiot." Sarah said, laughing again.

Pickles felt his heart grow heavy with her words of rejection and shame. "I am not!"

"Yes you are! You think that just because you drink a few beers you're a grown-up? You're just a dumb, stupid boy. I don't even like you, Pickles. You don't know when to quit; you got me in alotta trouble today, and-"

"_You _got _me _in trouble, Sarah!" he said angrily. "And you don't even care!"

"No," She said, smiling evilly down at him. "I really don't. You were dumb if you thought I'd ever be your girlfriend or even kiss you. I really just wanted to taste that stuff, and you...well, you're stupid. I'm tired now, so I'm going to bed. Have a good walk home."

Just before she sut her window, Pickles called, his eyes full of tears, "But don't you wanna-"

"Go home, Pickles!"

And she slammed her window shut. He stood there for a long while feeling utterly confused. Sure, he was young, but he really, _really_ had liked her. They might be just kids, but...but...God, did he feel like a big fool. A huge fool. Sorrowfully, not knowing what else to do, Pickles turned and proceeded to walk back to his house. He didn't decide it right then, but in a few more years, by the time he was in high school, he'd decide that not only was love not real, but it was overrated. The only depth there ever could be to a relationship was sex, that was it. He'd never love anybody and they'd never love him, because life just wasn't meant to work that way.

Life just wasn't meant to work in his favor or even be all that great; that's what drugs and alcohol was for.

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 1, Part 1**

_**Norwegian Winter**_

Toki huddled into a tight bundle in his bed. It was cold; freezing. Nights in Lillehammer were usually were long and miserable. Sometimes he would sneak girls into his room. He was a nice-looking guy, after all, so they would come easily. Of course he would never actually do anything with them. He wasn't like that. Instead he might just let them listen to a couple of his _Iron Maiden _C.D.s or whatever...he really was a nice guy, but people always seemed to get mad at him. The girls he brought into his room to talk to—sometimes he was so lonely—would get mad because he wouldn't touch them, and they'd end up storming out of the house. That would wake up his parents and they would make him work all thru night the next day. Of course he'd thought of running away, but he was only fourteen. How could a fourteen-year-old kid survive in a hostile place like Norway? How could he survive the winters without a house or warmth? He was had all of those things now and he could barley live thru the night.

Toki sighed and watched as the warm vapor of his breath made a white cloud in the freezing air of his room. On nights like tonight he was so very alone. Cold and alone. He wished he had someone warm to talk to...he wished so badly he could go away, or at least to sleep. His parents had a fireplace in their room. They were always warm...

Toki shut his eyes and began singing to a little Norwegian song. It was a happy tune, one that always made him forget his problems and cheer up again. He couldn't be sad, because if he was then life would never get better. He had to be happy.

_Always._

The next morning Toki woke up and spent the whole day doing chores. It was boring work. Mostly all he did was shovel snow and haul around huge crates of herring. Usually nobody talked to him. To say that Toki's family was odd would be a severe understatement; his father was a reverend and his mother always carried around a rosary, and they were both constantly. Other kids feared Toki, thought that if they spent time with him his parents would curse their homes or something, so naturally he had never had many friends. He had some, sure, because he wasn't a very quiet kid. He was social and cheeful, always smiling, but this didn't stop most of the kids from making fun of him. Like today, as he shoveled the snow out of his yard—the stuff just kept falling and falling!-a kid walked up to him and frowned.

"Hey, Toki Wartooth."

"Hmm." he said, trying to focus on his work. He was almost done. As soon as he finished the front yard he could move on to the back...maybe he'd finish his chores early today.

The other kid frowned at this and kicked some more snow into the yard, laughing as Toki began to shovel it up. "Toki Wartooth, you're a weird kid. You know that?"

He shrugged and responded with another, "Hmm."

People loved evoking a negative reaction from him. He knew this, so he always tried to control his temper during times like this one. The kid began stomping thru the yard, picking up hunks of ice and chucking them at him. Toki threw down his shovel and sighed. He pushed some of his long, brown hair out of his face and asked, "Can I help you with something? Why are you in my yard?" He didn't know English yet, but he was slowly learning it from his _Iron Maiden _C.D.s Whenever somebody really pissed him off, he'd curse in English under his breath, grinning and knowing that nobody around him could understand anything other than Norwegian. That's exactly what he did now as the kid threw another huge hunk of hardened ice at him. Toki ducked and hissed under his breath, "Asshole."

The boy immediately let the new piece of ice he was holding fall from his gloved hand. His eyes grew wide as he asked in Norwegian, "What did you just call me? Was that some kind of crazy God-talk or something?"

Toki smiled to himself, picked up his shovel, and resumed his work. The kid didn't leave. Instead he walked right up to Toki, took a handful of his long hair, and tugged roughtly, laughing at the curse he let out. "Toki, you're hair is too long. Can't your parents afford to get it _cut?" _he said the last word as he pulled again. "You look like a girl."

"Leave me alone!" he tried to pull away, but the boy wouldn't let go of his hair. "I don't _want _to get it cut!"

"Why not? You look like a queer. Do you know that? A big, fucking queer." he ripped the shovel out of Toki's grip and threw it on the ground. "What're you gonna do about it? Huh?"

"I...I..." Toki's voice trailed off. He took a deep breath and said, "Please let me go. I have to finish my chores or dad will make me work all night."

"Why do you do everything they say?" the kid asked, releasing his hold on Toki's hair and shoving him backwards. "You know that it's never going to stop snowing, so why do you keep shoveling your yard like this? It makes you look stupid."

"You should respect your parents." was his simple response as he went to pick his shovel back up. "They love you and feed you and give you a home, so you should-"

"You're so _dumb," _The kid said, laughing. He paused then picked up another hunk of ice from off the snow-covered ground. "When're you gonna grow up?"

Toki bit his lip. "I am growing up."

"No you're not. It's like you're a fucking two-year-old. Don't you ever just wanna get out of here? Don't you wanna do anything with your life, or are you really as big of a waste as you look?"

He turned red. "I'm not a waste."

The kid shrugged and went to walk away. "Toki Wartooth, you're so stupid. Don't you ever wonder why you don't have any friends? It's 'cause you're weird. It's 'cause your parents are freaks and you are to. I guess you really are a waste." and just before he left the yard, he chucked the hunk of ice at Toki, laughing as it cracked against his shoulder. Just before his voice faded away into the freezing winds, the kid shouted, "And get a haircut, you fucking queer!"

Toki let out a hiss of pain, dropped his shovel, and gripped his shoulder. _"Fucks."_ he whispered. "Crap. That ams painful."

It was probably the first full, coherent sentence he'd ever managed to say in English, and once the words left his mouth, he smiled. "I...can dos it? I can talks Hen-glish?" and he silently thanked God. "Maybes I really can gets out of here and dos something with my life. Maybes I'm not a waste."

He finished his chores slowly, piecing together more short little sentences in English. He sang _Iron Maiden _songs to himself as he worked, and when he was done he decided that he had enough money hidden in his room to buy himself something—he managed to save whatever money he got from his birthday and holidays. It didn't amount to much, in fact it was worse than pitiful, but it might be just enough to buy a new C.D. His parents lived just outside the actual town of Lillehammer, but he could get there before the sun went down. The first place he visited was the music store. Almost nobody other than him went in there. It was mostly just a store that sold rock albums, and most people in Lillehammer hated rock. Toki loved it, though.

He went up to the cashier and showed him his handful of money. "What can I buy for this?"

The man behind the counter glanced over at him, sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Well if it isn't the long-haired girl, Toki Wartooth. What do you want?"

"Anything."

He frowned and held up a finger. "Hold on." and he went to the back store room and began throwing things around. "For that much I'll give you something that I think—hmm...hold on—yes, here it is." he came back out holding an old guitar. Toki frowned.

"I don't even know how to play that. What is it?"

"This," he said, laying it gently down on the counter. "Is a classic—a Gibson Flying-V electric guitar."

Toki arched a brow. "Okay...what am I supposed to do with that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, play it, I suppose. Just consider it a favor—a _major _favor. It's worth money, but nobody in this stupid town will buy it. I had it on display for a couple of months then put it in the back. It's a hopeless cause, trying to get anyone in Lillehammer interested in rock." he gave Toki a sideways smirk and asked, "You're interested, yes?"

"I don't know. Sure, I guess." and he took it and put his money on the counter. "How do I-"

"Here, and take this, too."

He tossed him a free _Iron Maiden _C.D. And said, "For good luck."

"Wowee, thanks!" Toki exclaimed as he was ushered out of the store.

The cashier rolled his eyes at this joyous display and said, "Now go, Toki Wartooth. Go home and cut your hair."

"Okay, whatever you say! Thanks!" and he gave the man a quick hug then hurried down the street, holding his new guitar and his C.D. close, smiling.

Months passed. Toki really had no way of practicing on his new guitar—he had no amp, no teacher, and no clue. He still learned fairly well on his own, and in six month's time he was pretty damn good. He listened to the C.D., too. As soon as he uncovered his C.D. player and popped in the little disc, he knew that there was something more going on there. He didn't know why, but suddenly he dreamed of being in a band.

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 1, Part 2**

_**Do Anything For Dethklok**_

A period of about five years passed, one where Toki's self-induced alienation worsened. By the time he was nineteen he had nearly saved up enough money to move out of his parent's place. Other people his own age still threw chucks of ice at him while he was working and called, "Toki, you still just can't afford to get yourself a damn haircut? That's a same. Do you need to borrow the money?"

They'd throw dollars and cents at him and he'd take it and use it to buy more C.D.s he really didn't care what they had to say, or at least he tried not to. His parents sensed his growing detachment from his chores and God. They made him go to church twice as much and work longer into the night. He was worn out, but he always practiced at his guitar, and soon he was hurrying to the radio, trying desperately to catch any snippets from interviews from a newly rising band called _Dethklok. _They were apparently touring Europe and were currently in France. Soon they'd play in Spain, then come to Norway. Toki didn't catch much from the interviews. After all, his English was still terrible and most of the time the radio was fuzzy and his parents would switch it off quickly, trying to pull their son back into the real world.

What he did catch, though was usually the deep, harsh voice of a man saying, "We're going to make _everything _brutal..."

Toki smiled and repeated, "Brutal? What does that mean?"

He had no clue. He just continued on with his regular, boring life until one day he went into the music store to by some more C.D.s. What he ended up walking out with something so much greater. "No _Iron Maiden _for you today, Toki Wartooth, the long-haired wonder," the cashier said, handing a plain album to him. "I think this would fit your taste nicely. It is a demo tape, but a damn good one."

The case read in sloppily written letters _Dethklok. _It didn't click, soToki laughed and asked, "No, I want _Iron Maiden _or something heavy—what's this junk?" in his mind nothing could compare to _Iron Maiden._

"A newly rising band. They're becoming amazingly popular and they're supposed to do a concert here in a few months."

Toki's smile melted away as he remembered all he had heard on the radio. He asked, his pale blue eyes shining with excitement, "Wowee! A real concert? That's going to be amazing!"

The cashier chuckled. "You think? Well here, then. You can have my ticket. My girlfriend got it for me, but I don't really want to go. I'm not interested in what they sing anyway—American trash. It bores me."

Toki took the ticket and held it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. "I...you're just giving it to me? Thank you much! This is...wow..._Dethklok..."_

He walked out of the store that day feeling amazing. He had a new dream as he popped the C.D. into his player. The blaring, roaring music was good, but it seemed to be missing something to him, some key sound...Toki grinned and glanced over at his guitar. "I coulds do it if they'd give me a chance...I _know _I could..." And in his mind he really thought he could be the rhythm guitarist for _Dethklok._

The day of the concert came, and as Toki gathered up his things his father watched him, a deep frown upon his wrinkled face. "Toki..." he began.

"Dad, don't even try," he said, putting his hair behind his ears. "I know what I'm doing."

"Toki, I know you think you're an adult, but you're just not. This is complete maddness!" when his son said nothing, he grabbed the suitcase he was packing and hissed in his ear, "What do you think you're going to do to earn money? Once you walk out that door—once you abandon God himself—then you abaondon this family. We will no longer support you."

"I don't want to abandon you, dad, just...I don't want this forever. Don't you get that?"

"So what? You're going to run away to America, with that band if they accept you? And what in your right mind even lets the notion that they would so much as consider someone like _you-"_

"What do you mean, dad?" Toki asked, closing his suitcase. "You mean I'm a waste, right?"

His lips became a thin line and he looked down. "You've got to grow up, got to stop living these stupid, childish-"

"Shut up, dad! I know what I'm doing!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Toki knew that he'd gone too far. He shook his head quickly, sputtering, "No, I didn't...I don't...I'm sorr-" His father's fist collided with the side of his face. Toki gasped and rushed to defend himself; he recoiled, as he had always done, and began crying, "Dad, hitting me won't make me stay this time! It won't make me do what you want, not now! All of that's over. I...I'm not scared of you anymore. I..." _I hate you._

There were some things that Toki refused to think about, like the fact that whenever he said or did something that his parents didn't like, they'd beat him. They wouldn't hit him or discipline him, they'd beat the shit him until he couldn't stop crying, until he'd have to go to sleep on the cold floor and drag himself to a doctor the next morning. He could tell that something like that was about to happen again, like it had so many other times, but Toki wouldn't have it. He was stronger than his father now, and although he was still terrified of him, he would get away no matter what. He would never have to drag himself to a doctor again, coughing up blood, cradling his broken arm or trying not to gasp for breath with his broken ribs...it was over.

Without another word he walked out the door and went to the _Dethklok _concert. They played, it was amazing—although it was still missing something—and then proceeded to pack up their stuff. Toki was slowly growing desperate. He knew he couldn't return home, and he knew full well that he had to talk to them. He _had _to. Carefully he slipped past the security and backstage. It was chaos, so Toki really didn't know what to do other than stumble up to the first person he saw. It was a red-haired man with startlingly green eyes and the oddest accent that Toki'd ever heard. "Hey, excuse mes? Hey?"

The man turned around, looking quite annoyed. "Whadda want, huh? Who're you?"

"A fans."

"Uh-huh." he arched a peirced brow and glanced past Toki. "How the fuck did you get 'dem to let you pass?"

He shrugged. "I don'ts know, but I haves to ask you something—I can play guitar, and-"

"Yeah, dude, I don't do 'dat. You wanna go talk to Skwisgaar about that. He's the guitarist."

Toki frowned. "Skwi...Skwi..." he struggled to say the name and finally ended up admitting, "I'm reallys Norwegian, and I really can'ts understand or speak English, so-"

"Apparently nat, or you would've seen the signs that say _'NO FANS ARE ALLOWED BACKSTAGE'." _when Toki gave him a confused, lost look, the redhead smiled a little and asked, "What's your name anyways, kid?"

"_Navn?"_

"Your name. Y'know, _your name? _I'm Pickles the drummer. Can you at least understand 'dat?"

Toki gave him a hopeless look and repeated, "Pickle?"

"Yeah. What's your name?"

"T...Toki Wartooth."

"Okay, good. And Toki Wartooth, what the hell are you doin' backstage?"

He bit his lip. Why could he suddenly understand nothing? Damn it, he'd been practicing for this, dreaming about it for years, but now he chose to act like an idiot? All he could do was turn red and ask cluelessly, _"Jeg ønsker å være i bandet ditt, takk."_

Pickles frowned and reached over. He grabbed a nearby beer and passed it to Toki, asking warmly, "Want a beer, dude?"

"B...Beer?" he arched a brow, took it, and drank a small sip from it. He frowned and passed it back to the drummer, shaking his head. _"Ikke bra."_

From a ways away a man called, "Pickles, are you all set to go? We'll be departing in five minutes!"

"Yeah," he said back. "Almost!" then he turned back to the Norwegian and said, "Look, since I really can't understand anything your sayin', but I don't think that you're doin' that...great..." he really didn't know how to say it, but Pickles could tell that Toki was distressed, dying to say something that he just couldn't get out. It also didn't appear as if he'd had a place to sleep in a few weeks, but this wasn't saying much. None of _Dethklok's _fans were really that great to look at. Still, though, he didn't hesitate to take hold of Toki's arm and begin walking. "Just follow me," he said, making sure the Norwegian kept close and didn't get lost amidst the madness of backstage. "I'll take you to Skwisgaar. He'll know what you're saying. He's Swedish."

"Swedish, not ams being Norwegian?"

Pickles shrugged. "Sure, I guess." As they approached a tall, golden-haired man, he called, "Hey, Skwisgaar, we got a situation here!"

The Swede turned, a brow arched and quizzical look on his face. As soon as he laid his shining dark blue eyes on Toki, he scoffed. "Ja, and just who ammnest _'dat?"_

"I dunno, that's the thing. I think he said his name's Toki or somethin'."

"And what ammnest he doings here backstage? You know no fans ammnest allowed back here. Haves him assaski-hiated or somethings. Get one of thems Klokateers to dos it."

Pickles quickly shook his head and indicted to the guitar Toki had slung over his shoulder. "Dude, we're not gonna have him assassinated 'cause I think he plays, but I'm not sure."

"Sos what?"

"He speaks Norwegian and I can't understand him."

Skwisgaar rolled his eyes. "Pickle, we leaves in a few minutes-es and you wants me to transkli-miate that dildo's words?"

"I think he wants to ask us somethin' important."

"Swedish ands Norwegian ain't even the same language, douchbag!"

"Just do it, please!" Pickles begged, releasing his hold on Toki's arm. He turned to the cowering Norwegian and instructed, "Hey, dude, tell him whatever you've gat on your mind before we have to leave."

Skwisgaar sighed. "Fines, I'll talks to him." he glared down at Toki and asked, _"Vad är det som du vill ha av oss? Varför har du smyga tillbaka hit?_

_What is it that you want from us? Why did you sneak back here?_

Toki answered in a shaking voice, _"Jeg ønsket å fortelle deg at jeg virkelig elsker musikk og spiller gitar, så jeg bare lurte på om ... Jeg har hørt at din gamle rytmegitarist hardkokte hardkokte ut av kontrakten hans, så-"_

_I wanted to tell you that I really love your music and I play guitar, so I was just wondering if...I heard that your old rhythm guitarist bailed bailed out of his contract, so-_

Skwisgaar snickered and said, _"Så du ville vad? Bli vår nya gitarrist?"_

_So you wanted to what? Become our new rhythm guitarist? _

The Norwegian nodded and said in his broken English, "Ja, I guess I dids. God, it sounds really sutpid now, though."

"What?" Pickles asked, his eyes shifting from one man to the other. "What'd he say? What does he want?"

Skwisgaar ignored him and said, his voice full of derision, "Yeah, it ammnest pretty stupids. What did you say your name was agains?"

"Toki Wartooth."

"Hmm. Well, Tokis Wartooth, you've got to be the biggest waste of-"

"Excuse me boys, but who is this?"

They all turned and Pickles let out a relieved little sigh. "Hey, Ofdensen, you're here. I-"

"Yes, I'm here because everyone is waiting for you on the bus. We have that show tomorrow in Finland, so let's just get rid of this fan and go. Come on, chop, chop." he clapped his hands together. The drummer, however, shook his head.

He hadn't really understood any of the conversation, but he did make out the word 'guitar'-or _gitar-_a bunch of times, so he said, "No, you don't get it. He wants to be our new rhythm guitarist." and he turned to the Norwegian and asked, "Right, Toki?"

He nodded and answered firmly, "Ja, I woulds really likes it."

"Well guys, this is a major decision, letting a fan-"

"I'm not just a fans, sir. I can reallys play guitar," Toki interjected, staring at Ofdensen with his pale blue, innocently excited eyes. "I ams pretty good. Not as good as Skwisgaar Skwigelf—never as good as hims—but good."

Pickles frowned. "I thought you couldn't speak English."

"You just makes me nervous. Sorry."

He shrugged this off and said to Ofdensen, "Look, don't be a dick be a dude. Let's give him a chance. I mean, it's not like he have anyone else to fill in, so-"

"Nos way," Skwisgaar cut in. "That ammnest totally never goings to happen. He's dildos, just looks at him! He sneaks backstage wearing 'dem rags-es and hims hair all everywhere. He looks pitiful. Nos, absolutely not. Right, Ofdensen?"

The finely suited man stared at Toki and sighed. "Skwisgaar, that's just it. He looks horrible." and he gently laid a hand on Toki's shoulder, and asked in a coolly professional way, "Son? Toki?"

He looked up, sniffled, and wiped his nose. His jacket was too long for him, so the sleeves hung over his hands. "Ja?"

"Do you have a place to stay tonight?"

They all held their breaths, awaiting the trembling, exhausted Norwegian's answer. Finally he said, his blue eyes flickering down to the floor, "I rans away, so nos. I don't." and he paused and added brokenly, "Can't go back, neither, can never go back...they didn't likes me going to _Dethklok _concert, leaving. They didn't even want me to learn English. They-"

"Umm-hm. And just who is 'they', Toki?" Ofdensen asked, his eyes full of honest concern.

"My parents-es."

Skwisgaar groaned and rolled his eyes once again, clearly unmoved by his words. "Ofdensen, you can'ts really consider this! This ams pity case, that's all! Just because he says that hims parents don't want him no more-"

"I think we should give him a chance," Pickles said, staring at Toki, his green eyes ablaze. "He might be good, right? Besides, he don't got anywhere else to go."

"Sos what? I don'ts care."

"Okay, so maybe since we're all so busy not carin' about anything we should just send you back to your mam in Sweden," Pickles spat. "How about 'dat?"

"Pickles, please," Ofdensen began. "Let's just all calm down."

"Fucks this," Skwisgaar said, sulking. "We don'ts needs another guitarist; I can dos it just fine."

Toki shook his head and tugged at the sleeve of Ofdensen's suit. He said in Norwegian, _"Jeg beklager. Jeg ønsket ikke å lage bråk. Bør jeg reise? Det er fint, jeg har sovet i det kalde før. Jeg kan administrere."_

"What did he say, Skwisgaar?" Pickles asked.

"He saids..." the Swede spoke, his voice heavy with guilt, "...he saids that he doesn't want to makes us fight and 'dat he'll go and sleep outside in the snows tonight, 'cause he haves dones it before..." and he lowered his head and said, "Fines, we can keeps him—_it. _See how it goes, I guess."

Ofdensen nodded. "That's all we're asking, Skwisgaar. Keep in mind, though, that the rest of the band still has to meet him and come to an agreement, so there's still a chance that-"

"Let's just go," Pickels said, noticing how badly Toki was shivering against the cold, just how pale and weak he looked. The two walked off, leaving the drummer to explain the situation to the Norwegian, who was staring at him with wide, tear-filled and terrified eyes.

"I ams leave?"

"No," he said. "Just follow me."

"We going?"

"Yeah."

Toki swallowed and asked, sniffling, "I ams to come?"

"Sure, if you still want." when the Norwegian gave him a questioning look, the drummer nodded and said clearly, "Yeah."

"Warm?"

"Huh?" Pickles stopped walking and turned to him. "What did you just say?"

Toki looked up at the falling flecks of white snow, felt the chilling wind cutting thru the thin layers of his old jacket, and asked with some difficulty, "Ams it warm? No more cold?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No more cold. Just come on." he took Toki's arm and guided him all the way to the bus, ignoring the sound of crunching snow beneath his shoes. He hated the snow. If he ever saw it again, it would be too soon.

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

****A/N****

**Well...guess there really isn't much to say. For the record—I know I mention this in every Metalocalypse fanfic I write—when Pickles says stuff like 'jab' instead of job, it's not a misspelling. It's just always how I type him and his voice. Also, I don't speak Norwegian or Swedish—I'm from Louisiana, for God's sake—so I use Google translate. Please don't get mad if something's not conjugated correctly or whatever. I'm trying my best. In case you were wondering, Toki's obsession with _Iron Maiden _is mainly added in for two reasons: [1] _Iron Maiden _is one of my favorite bands; [2] I read somewhere that some of the creators/voices for Metalocalypse compared Toki's guitar stlye to that of a dude in _Iron Maiden. _So yup, there you go.**

**Anyways, reviews are much appreciated and loved. Hope you enjoyed the story so far. Lots more to come. Peace & Love.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2, Part 1**

_**Choices & Questions**_

Pickles lead Toki into the bus. "Just find a place to sit, I guess," he said as he stepped aside and let the shivering Norwegian get in. As soon as the two stepped inside, everyone's eyes slowly shifted over to them. The drummer smiled awkwardly and said, "Hey, dudes. 'Dis is-"

"The stupids idiot that don't even knows English yet," Skwisgaar completed, an evil smile on his face.

This seemed to be everyone's cue to begin talking at once. Even Ofdensen began talking, his voice a serious hum above everyone else's. In fact, the only one who seemed to be okay with Toki's inclusion in the band was Pickles. He stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, throwing insults out at everyone who tried to say anything bad about the Norwegian. In his mind they were all being total hypocrites, and he didn't hesitate to let them know it.

"Skwisgaar, what're you talkin' about, dude?" he asked. "When I first met you, you didn't understand a fuckin' word. Not anything. At least he can talk if he really tries. You were just-"

"Jeesh," Murderface broke in, frowning as Toki stood hugging himself in the doorway. "he looksh pretty girly. I mean, hish hair ish really long and-"

"Translate?" Toki piped up, his cheeks turning a bright scarlet. He was staring at Skwisgaar as he repeated, "Translate?"

The Swede rolled his eyes and said thru gritted teeth, "Ja, fine. I mean, it's not like I gots words in my mind to be saying. What you wants to tells them, dildo?"

"_Fortell dem om å la meg bli. Fortell dem at jeg virkelig ønsker å være i bandet og ville gjøre noe hvis de lar meg bli, og ga meg en sjanse. Bare én sjanse, det er det._

_Please tell them to let me stay. Tell them that I really want to be in the band and would do anything if they let me stay and gave me a chance. Just one chance, that's it. _

He laughed coldly and retorted, "I wills not tell them that!"

"_Vær så snill, jeg vet ikke engelsk ennå._

He spoke now with a quiet desperation in his voice, one that actually made Pickles feel somewhat guitly. The drummer glared at Skwisgaar and demanded, "Just tell us what he said, douchebag."

"Pickles, I really don't think that what he said is relevant to the situation," Ofdensen said, cleaning his glasses off on his suit. "What I think we need to discuss now is Toki's place in the band. I've filled everyone in on your plan, but I think that it's only fair to consider other people's view on the subject, Pickles."

"I will just as long as they're fair!"

"Very well then. Would anyone like to begin?" he asked. When everyone grew silent he sighed. "So now that Toki's here you don't want to voice any of your previously stated complaints? None of you? Not one of you would like to say how you feel about-"

"I just think...you know," Nathan said with a tired groan. "Well, damn it, Pickles. It'd just be a lot of fucking work that we don't need. I mean, look at him. He doesn't even know English yet."

"But he's learning!" the drummer protested as he went and sat on the couch. Toki didn't follow him, just stood by the door nervously twisting his long, brown hair in his hands. Pickels motioned for him to come over, and so he did.

"I jusht think that he'sh short of unneceshshary._" _Murderface lisped, spit flying between his lips. And he turned and stared at the Norwegian and asked, "What do you think? Do you think that we should put up with you?"

Toki turned back to Skwisgaar and begged, "Translate?"

"I wills not."

"Skwisgaar!" Nathan growled. "Just do it or Pickles is gonna get pissed and we're never gonna hear the end of it."

The Swede glared down at the guitar that lay in his lap. He began strumming at it as he said, "Fines, Toki. I transk-hilate."

"T-Thanks you," he said with some difficulty. He meant to begin speaking right then, but as his pale blue eyes watched Skwisgaar's fingers rapidly move up and down his guitar, his face became ashen. He looked back at Pickles and said with some note of fear, "I can'ts play _that _good."

" 'Dat's fine, Toki. We don't expect you to, just say what you need to say to Skwisgaar, 'kay?"

He nodded and said in Norwegian, _"__Jeg vet ikke hva jeg skal si ... Jeg tror jeg egentlig aldri trodde jeg skulle komme så langt. __Takk for å gi meg en sjanse, fordi jeg virkelig, virkelig ønsker å gjøre dette. Mer enn noe annet. Det er den eneste måten jeg tror jeg skal overleve. Jeg kan ikke gå hjem, jeg trenger ikke noen til å ta meg i. Jeg er alene. Vær bare hjelpe meg ut. Jeg lover jeg skal bli god. Jeg sverger til Gud...__"_

Everyone stared anxously at Skwisgaar. It took a moment for the Swede to fully comprehend Toki's words, but once he had he said, "He says that he don'ts gots nowhere to gos, so he dosen't know what he'll do if we throws him out."

"Yeah, _and." _this wasn't enough for Pickles. Although he didn't understand a word of Norwegian, he knew that Toki had said something else. He could tell by the desperate look on the teenager's face that he'd said something else.

Skwisgaar gazed at him hatefully. Begrudgingly he continued with the rest of his translation. "Even thoughs I don't think it ammnest relevants to the situ-haksen, hims says—he _thinks—_that if we gives him a chance he'll do good. He swears."

"I think we should give him a chance," the drummer said. "He could be really good."

"Or dildos." the Swede said, resuming the strumming at his guitar.

Pickles scoffed. "Yeah, well...how can you even understand him anyways? I thought you didn't speak Norwegian, only Swedi-"

"Sweden and Norways ammnest right next to each other, dildos, so the languages ams similar!" he snapped. "I ain'ts gots no time to gives you a Geometrys lesson, but-"

"Geography?" Toki inquired sweetly, smiling a little.

Everyone snickered and Skwisgaar's face flushed as he said, "Fucks you! I don't even likes you, stupid Norwegian. Don't tells me where places ams and ammnest, 'cause you don't knows any more than I dos." he glared back down at his guitar and added under his breath, "All the Norwegian ammnest scum..."

"Well, anyway. Guys, look." Ofdensen spoke up, trying to make them refocus on the matter at hand. "Either Toki's staying with us or he's not. It's not up to me to make that decision, but I'd advise that you think very carefully."

"Fuck you!" Pickles exclaimed suddenly, getting to his feet. "What do you have against him? It's like ever since you met him you're-"

"Pickles, please sit back down." he interrupted coolly. Only when the drummer was sitting back on the couch did he continue. "Consider the fact that he's nothing more than a _fan. _Imagine if we went around picking up everyone off the street. He could be a danger to the band. He could-"

"Does he really look like a fuckin' _danger _to you? Look at him! He looks like he's about to die!"

Toki, realizing that he was being talked about, asked quietly, "Foods?"

Pickles turned to him and immediately he lost every sign of his previous hostility. "Huh? What is it that you want?" he asked the question in an uncharacteristically kind way. It made Skwisgaar roll his eyes.

"Foods?" Toki repeated patiently. "Hungries."

He nodded. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Anyone gat any food?"

Nobody said anything. Skwisgaar grinned and said to Toki in Swedish, _"__Dumma norska. __Du är inget bättre än en hund, och hundar förtjänar inte mat.__"_

Nathan frowned at this. "What'd you say?"

Toki just began picking his nails and said quietly, "I'ms no dog, Skwisgaar."

"What the fuck?" Pickles yelled. "Now we're just gonna all call him a dag? What is that shit, Skwisgaar? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I thinks," he answered, throwing his guitar down on the floor in a sudden rage. "I thinks that I ammnest Skwisgaar Skwigelf, and I thinks that I am the fastest guitarist in the worlds. I also thinks that we don'ts needs _him. _There ams no place for him in this band, Pickle. Face it. Not as long as I'ms here."

Pickles opened his mouth to say something else, but Ofdensen spoke before he had the chance. "Look, guys, we need to decide right now. Is Toki going to stay or not? We'll put it to a vote. All those in favor of him staying in the band for a six month trial period, please raise your hand."

"Voting shucks," Murderface said, crossing his arms.

Nathan, however, raised his hand. "I'll give the little prick a chance."

Toki gave him a grateful little smile. "Thanks."

"Whatever."

Pickles also raised his hand. Ofdensen nodded and said, "Good. Half the band's support is enough to keep him in the band. I guess I'll go write up a contract for you to sign, Toki." and he glanced at Skwisgaar and asked, "Can you please ask Toki if he can read English?"

The Swede nodded and said bitterly,_"__Hej, dum. Kan du läsa på engelska?__"_

Toki frowned and asked obliviously, "English?"

"Can you read it?" Pickles asked, trying to sound less annoyed than he actually felt. "Do you even know how to read?"

"Knows to read? Ja, Norwegian."

"No English, huh?"

He shook his head. "Nos English."

"Hmm," Ofdensen said with a little frown. "I suppose that I'll just have to make a copy of the contract in English and Norwegian. Would that be okay, Toki?"

He shrugged and said cluelessly, "Okays."

"Good. I'll just leave you to guys to mingle." and Ofdensen made a quick exit, all the while running his list of things to do thru his head. Managing _Dethklok _was more than enough work for the average human being, and now he had a non-English speaking Norwegian to worry about. Not to mention the fact that half the band didn't even want Toki around...

This was perfect. Just perfect.

As soon as he left, Murderface said, "I don't like that shtupid Norwegian prick."

"Nobody asked you, douchebag." Pickles retorted bitterly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Technically we did." Nathan pointed out. "I mean, we did just put it to a vo-"

"I don't care. I hate you all."

Skwisgaar chuckled. "Wows. That ammnest pretty mean thing to say, Pickle."

"Well it's true! You're all dicks! You don't even wanna give him a chance!"

"Why you care so much if we gives him a chance or nots? He looks like one of them hobos, anyway."

Murderface laughed and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Toki'sh like a hobo!"

Nathan just opened himself a bottle of booze and grumbled, "This is gonna be a long ride."

There was a moment of silence before Pickles glanced down at the suitcase Toki had brought with him. He nudged it with his shoe and asked curiously, "Hey, Toki? What kinda stuff you brought from home?"

"Lots of music. That ams about it."

For some reason he didn't seem quite as nervous now that he had been voted into the band. The drummer gave him an inviting little smile and said, "Oh. Cool. What kinda music?"

"You can looks in it if you-"

In a moment Murderface had jumped out of his seat and had unzipped Toki's suitcase; he dumped out all of its contents and his eyes grew wide. "What the fuck? It'sh jusht a shitload of C.! Haven't you ever heard of an iPod, idiot?"

Toki arched a brow. "iPods? What ams that?

Nathan laughed. "You don't know what an iPod is?"

He shook his head and said innocently, "Nos. _Hva er det?"_

"It ammnest a thing you keeps your music and videos on, idiots." Skwisgaar answered, strumming on his guitar. "You do knows what _music _is, don'ts you?"

"Fuck yeah he doesh! Look at thish!" Murderface held up an _Iron Maiden _album and said, "Thish ish amazing. You bought all of theshe?"

Toki nodded. "Ja."

Pickles reached for a C.D. And scratched his head. "What's 'dis one called?" he flipped it over and read, "Hendrix...dude, you gat fuckin' Hendrix in Norway?"

"Hendrix?" Skwisgaar inquired, glancing up from his Gibson. "Who or what ams a Hendrix?"

"Jimi Hendrix, you dildo. Ain't you never heard of Hendrix?"

"Hims was the best guitarist _ever." _Toki chimed in, smiling proudly and taking back the C.D.

The Swede chortled and said confidently, "Nos, that ammnest impossible, 'cause _I _am the greatest guitarist 'dat ever lives."

Pickles got down on the floor and began looking thru Toki's suitcase of C.D.s for himself, an astonished look on his face. "Dude, are you kiddin' me? This is really cool..." and he dug out a very strange-looking one and read in confusion, "_The Doors? _Who 'de fuck are 'dey?"

Nathan just stared at the suitcase in wonder. "Didn't you bring any clothes?"

"Ja, what I gots on."

"No, you know what I mean. Any more shirts or whatever?"

Toki shook his head. "Nos. _Jeg er iført alle klærne jeg eier."_

"Huh." then he turned to the Swede and asked, "Skwisgaar, what the fuck did he just say?"

"Hims said that he ammnest wearing all the clothes he owns."

A look of pure bewilderment came upon Nathan's face as he said, "Oh. Wow, really? That sucks..."

Pickles laughed at this. "You're jokin', right Toki?"

"Joke?"

"You're really nat wearin' all the clothes you own, right? You must have at least, like, one other shirt, right?"

He shook his head. "Nos. Just this." and he began hauling all the C.D.s back into his suitcase, but before he could Pickles stopped him.

"No, dude, don't even bother. We're gonna get you an iPod." and he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, dialed a few numbers, then waited for someone to pick up. In a moment he was talking, sounding annoyed. "Hey. Yeah, dude, by the time we get home can you have a new iPod touch ready? Yep." he paused, frowned, and said, "Nah, as much memory as it can have. Yep, sure. I'll pay. 'Kay. Thanks, dude. Oh yeah, and a couple of Big Macs and some fries. Yeah, whatever. Piss aff." and he hung up and said, "Toki, by the time we get home you'll have a new iPod and some food, alright?"

His pale eyes were wide as he asked, "Justs like _that? _Easy?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, sure. 'Dat easy."

"Wowee! You guys gets everything you wants, huh?"

"Yep. It's what happens when you ammnest famous." Skwisgaar said. "You gets all the ladies you wants, all the drugs, and everything else. We coulds own the world if we wanted."

Toki gave him a little smile. "Well why don'ts you, then?"

"Because we ams too lazy."

Murderface laughed and asked, "Hey, Toki, can I ashk you a queshtion?"

"Sures."

Needless to say, that Murderface's one question spiraled into a dozen more, and soon everyone was asking Toki something. They all jumped around from one subject to another, but it all began with, "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

Toki turned a little red. "Nos, not really."

Murderface stared at him oddly and finally inquired, "Well don't you ever want one?"

"Sures, I guess."

"Dos you really care if you haves one or not?" Skwisgaar asked.

Toki thought about it and shrugged. "Sures. I guess it would be nice."

"I've got a question." Nathan said.

"Hmm?"

"How did you learn to speak English?"

"I listens to a lot of American music."

"What's your favorite band?" This time it was Pickles. He had sworn that he wouldn't ask Toki anything because he didn't want him to feel _that _different from the rest of the band, but he was honestly curious. Besides, the Norwegian didn't seem to mind—he did seem fairly uncomfortable with all the attention, though.

"I...ums...I don't know."

"I got one! What'sh your favorite _color!"_

The drummer rolled his eyes. "Dildo, that ain't a good question!"

And that one question spiraled into a dozen more stupid and seemingly irrelevant questions like, "What was the longest time you've ever spent outside during a blizzard?"

Toki considered it and finally answered, "Probably abouts three hours. I hads to come inside 'cause I couldn't feels any parts of my body anymore."

"Did you ever get frostbite?"

"Well nos, but once I gots inside and my foot was black. It turned back to normal color, though."

"Have you almost ever frozen to death?"

"Ja, loads of times."

"What was the worst thing that ever happened to you?"

Toki considered talking about the time his father had pushed him so hard that he'd fallen into a counter and dislocated his shoulder, but he decided not to. Instead of reliving that pain, he said shyly, "I fells into a frozen lake once."

Skwisgaar laughed. "Ha! I would've lets you outside to freeze!"

"Dude..." Pickles muttered, ignoring the Swede. " 'Dat sucks. What'd you do?"

"I gots out and...I don't knows—didn't die, I guess. I fells in it loads of times, so it really wasn't no bigs deal."

There was a moment of long silence before Nathan asked in his deep, harsh voice, "What the_ fuck _were you doing at your house to make you fall in a damn lake?"

"I works a lot."

"What about school? You ever been?"

Toki shook his head. "Nopes. I had to drops out 'cause my dad mades me."

Skwisgaar grinned wickedly and spoke up finally, after a brief but heavy silence. "So you ams stupid?"

"Nos. _I _don't thinks so."

"Then tells to me about something that don't gots to do with the guitar."

"I..." all of his previous comfort melted away as quickly as it had come. He shifted in his seat, looked down, and began picking at his nails. Suddenly he lost all of his knowledge of his English language. All he could think to say was,_ "__Jeg vet ikke noe som ikke har å gjøre med gitaren."_

"Skwisgaar..." Pickles began. The Swede didn't quit.

"Uh-huh. So nothings. You can't think of one fuckings thing that ain't got to do with guitar?" Toki shook his head. "So you ammnest what? Stupid?"

"Skwisgaar! Shut the fuck up!"

"What?" he asked, glaring at the drummer. "I ammnest just playings with him! You know, like little game. Rights, Toki? I ams just a little game, right, Toki? Huh?" he gave the Norwegian a malicious grin and said again, "Just a game."

Toki stared at the Swede with his pale eyes and said submissively, "Ja. Game."

"Goods. See? He ams fine with it. Right, Toki?"

"Sures. Fine."

Skwisgaar laughed and continued strumming on his Gibson, making a big show of it to impress Toki. After a moment of this he got bored and began speaking again. "Sos that's it, then? You can'ts speak Anglish no mores? Just one words?"

"Maybes I don't _wants _to talk anymore."

"Ashames. I was just startings to like talkings to you." Skwisgaar said coldly.

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 2, Part 2**

_**Saying Goodbye**_

After that everyone grew silent. The rest of the ride was a long one, but finally they arrived at the airport and loaded all their stuff onto the Dethcopter. Pickles began to worry as he watched Toki board the copter; the Norwegian was just standing there, staring back over his shoulder with a look of deep concentration on his face. Pickles approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, you alright, dude?"

"Huh?"

"Are you okay?"

He ran a shaking hand thru his greasy mat of brown hair and nodded. "Ja, sures."

Pickles chuckled and shook his head. "No, dude. Don't even try to pull that one-word sentence crap with me. If you're gonna talk then just do it."

Toki gave him one of his adorably confused looks._"Hva snakker du om?"_

"You still don't really understand English too good, huh?"

"I'ms trying really hard."

"I know. It's cool."

He noticed that the Norwegian's eyes were shining brightly as he stared out at the snowy countryside of Norway. "You...you don't wanna leave, huh?"

Now Toki laughed. It was a bright, much needed sound; Pickles couldn't help but smile at the suddenness of it. "Are you kiddings? I want to go, it's just...you ever wanted to do somethings that you know is wrong? Or haves you done somethings you ever regretted?"

Pickles nodded. "Yeah, loads of times." and he hesitated before trying to add thoughtfully, "But if you never woulda done 'dem to start with, then you would't have…" his voice trailled off and he sighed in frustration. "Shit. I don't know how to say it right. Sorry. I'm not good with words."

"It ams fines." he said, putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "I don't expects you to be."

"Hey, Toki?"

"Huh?"

Pickles swallowed, tried to think of a way to say what was on his mind, but all he could do was slap the Norwegian's shoulder supportively and clear his throat. "I...um...it's gonna be okay. You know 'dat, right? I mean, you know you're in the band now, don't you? You're not going anywhere and we're not just gonna dump you somewhere on the street or any-"

"I'ms leaving everything behind."

"What?"

"Everything." he said, letting out a breath. It made a white cloud of vapor and then disappeared into the freezing air. "I...what if I'ms not good enough?"

"You are."

"But how do you knows for sure?"

"I just do."

Toki shook his head. "No you don'ts. I'm not dumb."

Pickles bit his lip. "I know you're nat, just come on. We're about to take off." he made to walk off, but when Toki didn't come he turned and added, "Seriously. It's gonna be fine."

The Norwegian gave him a small, shy little smile. "You promises?"

He had never kept a promise in his life, but he still nodded. "Yeah, I promise."

"And America ams warm, right? No snows?"

Pickles grinned and shook his head. "Nope, no snow except for in the winter."

Toki put some of his hair behind his ears, trying to keep it from flying wildly in the biting cold wind, and he something very odd—he began laughing and he went right up and pulled Pickles into a tight hug. The drummer didn't know what to do. He just stood there patting Toki's head awkwardly, as if he were a dog, and glanced back at the Dethcopter, praying that nobody would see them hugging like this.

It was so un-brutal that it almost made him vomit...

...but still, Toki was freezing and Pickles was warm in his thick jacket, so he felt obligated to hug him back and say, "I swear to Gad, you're gonna be fine. We're really not 'dat bad. Skwisgaar's just a dick sometimes, but you get used to him."

"Thanks, Pickle," Toki said, sniffling. "You ams really good."

"Yeah, no...uh...no problem, I guess." he tried to pull the Norwegian away, but Toki wouldn't let go. The drummer rolled his eyes. "Okay, you can let go now—stap hugging me, please."

He pulled away and looked down, clearly embarrassed. "Sorry. We can gos now?"

"Whenever you're ready."

Toki walked with him into the Dethcopter. Just before they rejoined everyone else, he stopped and asked, "Pickle, you knows what?"

"Huh?"

"You don't makes me nervous that bad no mores."

He smiled and said quietly, " 'Dat's good. Thanks."

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 2, Part 3**

_**Welcome To America**_

They arrived home a few hours later and all gathered in the living room before going to bed. After plopping down in his seat on the couch, Skwisgaar began practicing on his guitar. "That stupids tour mades me so fuckings _tired. _What do we haves to do for tomorrow, Ofdensen?"

"Well, let's see. There's the new album that you have to start writing and recording as soon as possible, and also Duncan Hills Coffee contacted us today. They're interested in doing a jingle, but first they want Toki to sign his contract." and he took a pen out of his pocket and began clicking it madly—a nervous habit of his—and asked the Norwegian, "You do know how to write your name, don't you?"

He nodded. "Ja."

"He ain't stupid." Pickles added in, taking a sip from the bottle of vodka he was clutching.

"And I'm not saying he is, but we just have to think about these things." Ofdensen said before rising to his feet. "Well, I think that's it, boys. We're done for tonight and I want you all in bed by at least one A.M. You all have a busy day tomorrow, so let's get some sleep." and he exited the room, still clicking his pen.

Once he left, everyone except Toki let out annoyed and exhausted groans. "Is he kidding me?" Nathan growled. "We just got home and now we have to start on a whole new album?"

"But we jusht finished the _other _one!" Murderface protested. "That'sh bullshit."

"Uh, guys, permits me to say something." Skwisgaar said. "But that ammnest our jobs."

They all laughed at this. Pickles drank some more vodka and added, "Nah, I joined a band for two things—chicks and drugs. 'Dat's it."

"And money," Nathan added. "Don't forget about the money."

"Right, the money."

Toki looked around, his pale blue eyes shining with curiosity and his stomach growling loudly. He gently tapped Pickles' shoulder and asked politely, "Foods, please? I thought you saids that-"

"Oh shit, yeah!" and he got up, put a hand to his mouth, and yelled as loudly as he could, "Klakateer! We need a fuckin' Klakateer in here! Hurry up!"

In a second a Klokateer had entered the room. He bowed to them all and said, "My Lords wanted to request something?"

"Fuck yeah I do." the drummer said, sounding annoyed. "I ordered two damn burgers, some fries, and an iPod on my way home. Where are 'dey?"

"I...um...I'm sure they're on their way, Master Pickles."

"But 'dat's just it. What if I'm hungry now? What if I want to listen to my music _now?"_

The Klokateer glanced around nervously at the others and asked meekly, "Shall I go and ask someone about the delay, sir?"

"Damn straight, you will." distractedly he laid a hand on Toki's shoulder. "Our new rhythm guitarist is hungry." and he glanced down at the Norwegian, who was sitting on the floor, and asked, "When was last time you ate?"

"A meal?"

"Yeah, any real food."

"Couple of weeks."

"God damn, you've been wanderin' around Norway for-"

"Few months." he hesitated before adding, "I really wanteds to see your concerts."

Murderface, however, snickered and repeated, "Two shtupid weeksh without food? God, you're dumb. You spent two weeksh without food and a few monthsh wandering around Norway becaushe you wanted to shee our shtupid concert?"

Toki ignored him and leaned against the side of the couch. He began digging thru his suitcase again as Pickles snapped at the Klokateer, "Okay, look, the point is that I want my stupid, mother-douchebag burgers and my iPod. Is that too much to ask for?"

"Master Pickles, please forgive me." another Klokateer said as he entered the room. In one had he held two greasy bags of McDonald's and in the other an iPod case. "There was a slight wait at the Apple Store."

"Coulda sped it up anyways." he mumbled under his breath, snatching the bags of food and the iPod. Nathan frowned at this.

"You ordered food didn't get _us _anything?"

"Ja, you knows I likes the apple pies!" Skwisgaar yelled.

"Oh, come an, guys. Shut up." was the drummer's response as he passed Toki the bags of food. "He ain't never ate American before, so just chill out."

"Sho that'sh what we're calling McDonald'sh now?" Murderface questioned sarcastically. _"American?"_

"Will you all just please shut up?" he begged, letting his head fall onto his hands dramatically. "I'm getting a headache." Pickles wanted them all to just get out and got to bed; he was sick of hearing them pick at Toki.

"Well fines, then. I won't bother you anymores." Skwisgaar said, getting to his feet. "Goodnights."

They all said goodnight and went off to their separate rooms. Everyone except Pickles. He didn't feel right leaving Toki with just the Klokateers for company, so he sat on the couch and watched as the Norwegian unwrapped the a burger and bit into it, smiling.

"Anything else, my lord?" the Klokateers asked together.

"Nah, I've gat all I need right here. Thanks."

They left the room as well, and as soon as they had closed the door Toki grabbed the bags of food and went to sit on the couch beside Pickles. "Sorry about 'dat..." he said, clearing his throat. "You havin' to sit on the floor an' all. Tomorrow we'll make them bring in another couch or something."

"Okays."

Pickles reached over and opened up the iPod box. He turned it on and went to the music section. "Good. 'Dey put them all on here."

Toki looked over at him and swallowed. "What ams put?"

"I texted 'dem a list of songs and bands and shit from the C.D.s you had. Y'know, made 'em put them on there before I bought it." and he gently put the music player back on the coffee table. "That means you don't gotta haul around that suitcase anymore if you don't want. Tours are already hard enough without all of that stuff."

"Oh. Thanks." he took another bite from his burger and then noticed the second bag. "Um...Pickle?"

"Huh?"

"I'm never goings to eat all that."

"Eat what you want. I didn't know how hungry you were and I was scared you was gonna pass out or somethin', you looked so bad."

"I really feels bad I made you pay for it. Sorry."

"You didn't _make _me do nothin'. Nobody _makes _me do anything."

Toki shrugged. "Still, I'ms sorry. I can pays you ba-"

"I'm rich, dude. Seriously, it's no big deal. Just eat."

"Thanks."

Pickles nodded and turned on the T.V. He flipped thru every single channel before asking, "You had a T.V. Back in Norway?"

Toki arched a brow. _"Hva?"_

"What does 'dat even mean?" the drummer wondered aloud, forgetting his first question. "You say it all the time, but I can't even guess at it."

"What."

"I asked what it mea-"

"I'm tellings you; means _what."_

"Oh." he looked down, slightly ashamed. "Sorry."

"You don't haves to be." and he wiped his mouth off on his jacket. "I don't knows Englishes that well yet and you don't know Norwegian. Guess we ams even."

"Yep, guess we are damn near even."

Toki grabbed the other bag of food and offered it to Pickles. "Eat?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine. S'your food anyways."

The Norwegian frowned and didn't back down. "Please? I feels guilty."

The drummer took the bag of food and gave Toki one of his little half-smiles. " 'Kay. Whatever you say. Thanks." he opened the bag, took out his burger, and bit into it. While he chewed he thought about what he could say to make Toki feel better, but came up with nothing. He felt guilty that he and the rest of _Dethklok _had encouraged him to run away from home, almost die in the wilderness of Norway, and sneak past armed security guards...all for what? He wasn't even getting respected and nobody really liked him...Pickles felt his heart grow heavy with guilt and put down his burger.

"Hey, Toki?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you...y'know, _okay?"_

"_Hva mener du?"_

"Do you feel okay? Y'know, as in good?"

Toki shrugged. "Ja, sure." and he ate the rest of his food in silence then smacked his lips. "That was goods. Thanks."

"Welcome." Pickles yawned and closed his eyes. Finally thought of what to say."Hey, Toki?"

"Ja?"

And just as quickly as they had come, all of those wonderful and motivating words that had been swimming thru his brain melted away. All the drummer could do was sigh and say, "Well...goodnight. I-I'm goin' to bed, but if you need anything—_anything_-I swear you can come and y'know...ask me."

The Norwegian gave him a sweet, tired little smile. "Thanks, Pickle."

"Sure. Tomorrow we'll get you a room, but tonight could you just sleep here on the couch?"

"Couch? Sures."

He nodded. " 'Kay. I—well, I guess goodnight, then." and he got up, picked up his trash, and was ready to go out the door, but before he could Toki was calling him back.

"Heys, wait! Comes, please."

"Huh?" he turned and saw that Toki was staring at him, his pale eyes full of concern. "Yeah?"

The Norwegian held out his arms and asked in a quiet sort of meekness, "Hug?"

Pickles frowned and asked cluelessly, "Hug? Hug what?"

"Hug. Please?"

"Oh! From me? Yeah, sure." he went over, bent down, and hugged Toki as tightly as he could, trying to somehow let him know that it was okay. It struck him then just how brave the guitarist was. He'd run away from the only place he'd ever known to a new country that he had no clue about—a new country that had a totally different language? It seemed insane to him. _He'd _never be brave enough to do it...

_Never._

Toki hugged him tightly, as though he'd never see Pickles again. Finally the drummer pulled away and patted him on his shoulder. "Look, it's fine, okay? I'm just gonna be right upstai-"

"Cold?"

"What?"

"Ams it get cold in here at night?"

Pickles shrugged. "I dunno. I _guess _not...why?"

Toki bit his lip and looked down. "Nothings. Sleep good."

"Yeah." he said, giving him a reassuirng little smile. "G'night." he went to walk away again, but something stopped him. His heart seemed to tug, to pull him back over to where Toki was, grab a blanket, and make himself a spot on the couch.

The guitarist frowned at this and asked,_ "__Hva gjør du?"_

"I...uh...in English, dude?"

Toki arched a brow and shook his head. "Nos, can't say."

"Oh...well..." Pickles sighed and bit his lip in thought. "If you're askin' me what I'm doin', I'm sleeping in here tonight. Is 'dat okay? Would you mind if I did that?"

"I...mind?" he frowned. "What means that?"

"Can I sleep in here with you?"

Toki's face lit up and he nodded, rushed to make room for him. "Ja, sures!"

Pickles grinned and sat down next to the Norwegian. "Thanks, Tok-" before he could finish his sentence, Toki was talking away, about anything and everything. The drummer could only understand part of it, but what he could make out was actually funny. Toki had a sense of humor? Who knew.

They talked for a while, until Skwisgaar came down, his hair wild and messy, and glared at them. He was nearly naked, only wearing the covers of his bed around his hips. "Hey, here ammnest an obnoxious thought, but hows about you two shuts the fucks up? Me and my ladies can here you all the ways up in our damns room! It ammnest ruining the moods!"

Pickles smirked. "You got a girl up 'dere?"

"Ja, and I ammnest really horny, so can you please control yourskelfs?"

Toki blushed._"Du har en kjæreste?"_

Skwisgaar chuckled and said cleverly, "Ja, _lots _of 'dem—more than you haves, anyways." then he turned his attention to Pickles. "I'm going back up to my rooms now. Can you two dildos try to keeps it down?"

"Sure." he said. "We'll try."

And the Swede went back up the stairs, nearly tripping over the blanket that was covering him. Once he had left, Toki began picking his nails. After a moment he asked, "Pickle?"

"Yeah?"

"What ams a queer?"

His green eyes grew wide. "I..._what?"_

Toki met his gaze and repeated, his voice unsure and his expression confused, "A queer? What ams it?"

Pickles bit his lip and blushed a little. "What're you askin' me for?"

" 'Cause you ams the only one I can talk to."

"Oh. Shit, then I guess I _have _to tell you..." and he hesitated for a moment before another question popped into his head. "Toki, why do you wanna know 'dat?"

" 'Cause it ams...just tells me, please."

Pickles took a deep breath and scratched his head. "Okay, well...how should I—I don't guess you can just go and ask your parents or something?"

Toki shook his head. "No."

"Okay. I thought nat." he didn't know why, but just the notion of having to explain something like _that _to a person as innocent and seemingly ignorant as Toki made him almost feel sick. With much difficultly, he began. "Okay, well I guess it's whenever you're a dude, right?"

He nodded. "Ja, okays."

"And you like another dude."

Toki's eyes grew wide. "Ohs. So _that _ams why you didn't want to tells me."

Pickles turned almost as red as his hair and cleared his throat. "I...um, yeah. So why do you wanna know anyway? Did someone _call _you a queer?"

He shook his head quickly, trying to forget about the kids back in Norway who had thrown ice at him and called him names. Queer wasn't the only thing he'd heard being shouted at him. He'd heard worse things. _Many _worse things, although 'queer' had been the most popular. He'd never really known what it meant, though he'd gotten a clue when another teenager had come up to him once—a boy—and tried to kiss him right in the middle of town. When he'd refused, the kid had gotten angry and given him a black eye. That had made Toki very confused.

Now he tried to forget all that and he did what he usually did when faced with bad or painful thoughts—he smiled and shrugged it off happily. "I don'ts know," Toki answered cheerfully. "I guess it just-"

"Skwisgaar said it or somethin'?"

He shook his head. "Nos. _He _didn't." Toki silently cursed himself for putting emphasis on 'he'. It had been an accidental slip of the tongue, one that he thought but didn't mean to say. It only seemed to make Pickles more concerned.

"Who did it? Who called you a-"

"Do you thinks my hair ams too long?" he asked, trying to change the subject before he was totally humiliated.

"Do I what?"

Toki swallowed, closed his eyes, and repeated calmly, "Do you thinks my hair ams too long?" He had also been wondering about his hair for a while. Everyone said it was too long, made him look effeminate. This made him confused, too.

Pickles just chuckled and shook his head. "Nah. Have you seen _my _hair? No way. It just needs to be washed, that's all."

In the back of his mind Toki was remembering what the boy who had tried to kiss him said..._"But you _look_ gay, so I just figured..._

"I...I don't _looks _queer, right?"

The drummer's eyes darted from the Norwegian to the floor as he shook his head. "Uh, no. You don't. Listen, this is a really weird conversation. Can we just-"

" 'Cause I'm not, okay?"

"Okay, I never said..." his voice trailed off and he sighed. Pickles wasn't stupid; there was some bigger problem other than Toki's obvious lack of self-confidence. Taking care not to sound too nosy, he ventured to ask, "Hey, seriously, dude. Who the fuck in their right mind called you a queer?"

"I tolds you," Toki said, his pale eyes meeting Pickles' green ones. "Nobodys."

"But you-"

"I'm sorrys I asked. I knew I really didn't wants to know."

"Toki, please. Just tell me."

The guitarist bit his lip; his mask of carefree, childlike happiness didn't waver as he began to tell Pickles. Toki could tell that he'd started something, somehow sparked the drummer's curiosity. It almost seemed as though Pickles was genuinely concerned about him, which was a totally foreign and strange concept to Toki. Nobody ever really cared about him. Never had anyone once showed him a hint of true concern...

_Never._

As Toki spoke, Pickles' eyes grew wide. The Norwegian didn't tell him much, only that one day in Lillehammer a kid had come up to him and said that his long hair made him look like a queer. Once he became silent, Pickles let out a long, tired sigh and said, "That kid was an idiot. You're fine, Toki. You look fine, you act fine; you are just _fine, _alright? Got it?"

"I...sures, Pickle. Whatever you say."

The drummer's words took him completely by surprise. He half expected Pickles to laugh, take his words as a joke, and agree, tell him that he _did _look like a queer. Anyone else would've...anyone but Pickles. Suddenly Toki found himself feeling very _weird _around the drummer. He wanted to stay up all night and just talk, but Pickles refused, saying that for both of their own goods they'd better get to sleep.

"You've gat a lot to learn and a short time to learn it in, Toki," he said, laying down on a couch a ways away in the corner of the room. "And the bad part is that _I've _gotta teach it to you, and I'm a shitty teacher."

Toki just gave him a little smile and said sheepishly, "I don'ts think you're shitty and anything, Pickle. _Sov godt. Ser deg I morgen."_

"What does 'dat mean?"

"Sleep well and see yous in the morning."

"Yeah," Pickles said. "See you in the morning."

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

****A/N****

**Sorry about this chapter; I know it might've seemed kind of dull, but I swear the next one will be better. It'll have lots of cute little moments and junk and Toki will strip...okay, well maybe not, but still. No matter what he's adorable. ^_^**

**Oh yeah, and I had to throw the _Doors _into Toki's C.D. cfollection because they're my favorite band and I love them...so yeah.**

**Peace & Love.**


	3. Chapter 3

"_We come from the land of the ice and snow,  
From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow..."_

_~~Led Zeppelin, Immigrant Song_

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 3, Part 1**

_**The First Morning**_

The next morning Pickles awoke to find Toki sitting on the couch, his eyes half closed and struggling to stay open. The drummer yawned and sat up. There was nobody else in the living room yet; it was only nine in the morning, which meant that it was much too early for any signs of life in Mordhaus. Pickles gave Toki a sleepy smile.

"Hey. How'd you sleep?"

"Okays. I...um...don't knows what to do now, though."

He rubbed his eyes and asked tiredly, "Huh? Whadda mean?"

Toki shrugged. "Usually I works, but there ams nothing to do around here."

" 'Dat's because _we _don't work. The Klakateers do that for us."

"Ohs. Then what ams I to do?"

"I...uh..." Pickles studied him carefully. There were lots of things to do today—get Toki some new clothes that actually fit him, get him in the shower, fix him breakfast...finally he said, "What about a shower?"

"I woulds _really _likes that."

And they both got up, each of them still half asleep, and went to the bathroom. "Okay, well 'dis is it, I guess. Please tell me that you had showers in Norway." Pickles said, switching on the light.

Toki grinned. "Ja, we dids."

"Okay, then you're good, right? Towels are over there and—shit. Clothes. You gat any other clothes than just that?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Sorrys."

Pickles frowned and thought. "Yeah, that's fine. I guess...well, I got some old jeans you can wear for a while. They're skinnies, though. I used to wear them in _Snakes 'N Barrels..."_

But Toki really wasn't listening anymore. He had already proceeded to remove his shirt. Just as he unbuckled his belt he stopped and turned to the drummer. "Are yous going to leave now? I've gots to you knows, get naked."

"Oh, yeah, right. Sorry." and he turned and went to walk out the door. Before he left, though, he couldn't help notice how good Toki's body was. "I...uh, hey, Toki?"

"Hmm?" he asked, folding his shirt and gently laying it on the edge of the tub.

"What exactly did you say you did in Norway—y'know, as in your job?"

"I already told yous; I works all day for my parents-es."

"Doin' what?"

Toki shrugged, making nearly every bone in his shoulders stand out. The truth was that although he still had much of his former muscle, he also looked horribly thin. This, of course, could be attributed to all those nights he'd spent wandering around Norway. It still didn't fail to make Pickles begin to feel guilty all over again. He swallowed and turned around to face Toki.

His cheeks burned as he said, "You're so fuckin'..."

"Whats?"

"Just—you don't look how you act, that's all."

It was the best way he could put it. Toki sometimes acted like a regular four-year-old, and seeing him like this was just so odd. It made Pickles feel _weird..._almost as weird as he'd felt that day he'd talked to Sarah Simon for the first time...

But that was just another _weird _thought, so he quickly excused himself from the bathroom and left the Norwegian alone. Once Pickles had gone, Toki took off the rest of his clothes and turned on the hot water. He didn't even bother putting on the cold—he hated the cold. As he waited for the water to heat up, he thought.

He remembered back to a time when he'd been thirteen years old. There had been a girl. He sensed that Pickles had had a girl like his too, only things hadn't worked out so well for him...suddenly Toki sighed and let his head fall in his hands. Thinking about his girl just made him terribly confused. Sometimes it puzzled him to the point where he'd actually begin to cry and pray to God—or _whoever _was up there—to tell him what was wrong with him.

Her name had been Thora.

Toki smiled at the memory of her, but not because he _liked _to think of her, just because he was confused he didn't know how else to handle it. Thora. Yes, he remembered her. How could he forget the first girl who had loved him?

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 3, Part 2**

_**Wants & Can't Haves**_

Thora had been a pretty girl, that much was true. Toki had never really thought her beautiful or anything, but he guessed that she was cute. He really had never had much interest in her before that cold and bitter night in Norway. It was no secret that although Toki Wartooth was probably the oddest kid in Lillehammer, he was also the most charming. Nearly all of his friends had been girls, but that wasn't saying much...or so he thought.

Then there was Thora, with her characteristically Scandinavian light hair and blue eyes. Naturally she was very fair-skinned and rather tall and skinny. This hadn't interested Toki, though; none of the girls in Lillehammer ever really interested him, because they appeared to be all the same. He had always dreamed of meeting a girl or someone with totally different looks than those found in Norway.

He'd heard somewhere that there were these people—the Irish, he thought—who had a halo of bright red hair and amazingly green eyes, green like the color of the grass in Spring. He had always wanted to meet one of those people.

He would tell Thora this and she'd laugh. "Toki, you're so funny. You know nobody here looks like _that."_

"Yeah, but I think it sounds beautiful, like what someone _should_ look like. All the girls here look exactly the same." She'd always become glum, so he'd rush to add, "I mean you're all pretty, but I want to see different things, a whole new place. Maybe once I move away..." his voice would trail off or become unsure. This would only make her laugh harder.

"You're not going _away. _Nobody moves away from Lillehammer, they just get married and settle down together."

Toki would frown. "But that's so boring. What if I want to do something cooler, like play in a band or something?" even though he'd only been thirteen, he still dreamed of being in a band thanks to _Iron Maiden. _Thora would say he was crazy and he would let her listen to some of his C.D.s and say with a wide-eyed, starry look in his eyes, "Aren't they _amazing?"_

"Yeah, sure." she'd say. "Amazingly weird. Toki, you're not a weird kid, so why do you like weird stuff?"

And they would go back and forth for a while. Toki had known Thora since he was just a little kid and they'd always been friends. One night, however, she ruined all that. It began because he'd asked her to come over to his house during the night—it was another one of those lonely, endlessly cold nights—and when she got there, she began to act very odd.

She planted herself right in his lap and hugged him tight, whispering, "Hold me, Toki?"

"I...umm..."

"Like _this." _she took his hands in her own, blushing when he pulled away and glanced nervously at his bedroom door. If his parents caught him like this they really would kill him...

"Thora, get off of me. What are you doing?"

"I'm..._you know..."_

Toki shook his head and tried to get her off of his lap. "No, I really don't."

"Of course you do; you're a _boy. _You have to know."

He frowned. "Thora, what are you talking abo-"

"Don't be stupid!" she snapped suddenly, crossing her arms. "All the girls talk about it, how you..._you know."_

"What?" Toki asked. "What do they say about me?"

Thora rolled her eyes and said irritably, "Don't act stupid! You know what you do!"

"No I-"

"Toki, I love you."

The words shocked him, made him feel incredibly awkward. A thousand thoughts began racing thru his mind, but they all lead to the same inevitable thought. It was horrifying, but he realized just how perfect Thora was—she didn't mind rock and she never made comments about his hair—but he also realized something else.

_I don't love her, I really don't..._

Why didn't he? Thora was nice, she was cute, and she liked the same stuff he did, so why didn't he like her? Part of Toki's mind begged his heart to change its mind, begged him to fall in love with her right then and not be so _weird _about it, but he couldn't. Meanwhile, as he struggled to come to terms with it all, Thora's blue eyes were focused on him, watching his reaction intently.

Finally, realizing that Toki was at a loss for words, she hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Don't play dumb; _everyone's _known that I've liked you for, like, ever. When you invited me over I thought...I thought..."

He tried to squirm out of the hug without being rude, but Thora wouldn't let him go. In the end he was just left to sit there and say, "No, I honestly didn't know you liked me, 'cause if I had I would've never asked you to come over. Don't you get it? I just wanna _talk. _Why can't we do that? Just talk?"

"God damn it, Toki! You're thirteen years old and you've never made a pass at a girl in your life!" Thora cried. "Why don't you love me?" Suddenly her eyes were shining brightly in the dim light of Toki's room. His breath caught in his throat as he realized that she was about to cry. "Don't you love me? Huh?"

Not knowing what else to do, Toki pulled her into another hug and whispered, "Sure I like you, Thora. You're my best frie-"

"But I don't wanna be your friend!"

He pulled away, a brow raised. "So you _don't _wanna talk?"

She let out an annoyed sigh and said, "No, Toki! I want to be your girlfriend!"

"Oh." he sighed and looked down. What could he say to this? It was tortuous, humiliating—but why? It shouldn't be embarrassing for _him, _should it? Thora should be the humiliated one, but Toki was the one who ended up feeling ashamed. Why? Why didn't he like her? She was so nice, but...

"Toki?" she asked, running a small, delicate hand thru his long hair. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. You're so cute when you're thinking about what to say, though."

"Huh?" he peered up into her crystal blue eyes, blushing deeply. "What?"

Thora was giggling, smiling as she said, "You're cute when you do that too; when you turn red..."

"O-Okay." Toki didn't know what to say. Suddenly he regretted ever having invited her over to begin with.

"Can I kiss you?"

He gasped and looked up. "What?"

"I want to kiss you," Thora repeated, slipping her hand into Toki's. "Because I love yo-"

"No, I don't think that you sho-"

Just as quickly as he had cut her off, she cut him off. The instant Thora's lips met his, he knew there was something not right about it. It didn't feel as he'd always imagined his first kiss would feel. It was sort of dull and almost boring. He felt absolutely nothing—no growing love for Thora, no unbreakable bond forming. He was just there, on the other side of the kiss, almost feeling like an innocent bystander. He wanted something _else, _something that he couldn't put his finger on...

Clearly Thora was enjoying herself, though. In a moment she was on top of him again, pressing him into the hard mattress of his bed. Toki pushed her off him and wiped his mouth on his hand, trying not to seem too disgusted with her behavior. "Thora," he said calmly. "Maybe you should—you wanna just talk?"

He didn't want her to leave. He didn't want to be alone again in the cold blackness of his room. He wanted her there, but not if she was going to be like this. Thora clearly didn't understand this concept, because in a moment she was trying to kiss him again. Once more Toki pushed her away and said, looking down, "Just leave."

"But I-"

"Go!"

He'd never yelled at anyone before in his life, but he couldn't help it. Everything just made him sick. Thora made him sick, his room made him sick, the moon that was shining outside his window made him sick...it just all disgusted him. Thora gathered up her stuff and proceeded to walk out his bedroom door. Before she left she turned to Toki and said softly, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure. Tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Toki."

"Yeah. Goodnight."

"No matter what, I still love you."

And she left. Toki didn't feel anything, though. He didn't love her, didn't hate her, but he was angry with her. She'd made him horribly confused. Why didn't he love her back? She was nice, she was his God damn best friend, for Christ's sake, so why didn't he want to kiss her or hold her or even touch her?

Toki laid down on his bed, wiped his mouth again, and frowned. He could still taste her lip gloss. It was a fruity flavor, almost like watermelon. He covered his eyes with his pillow and groaned. "What's wrong with me?"

Why wasn't he in love with Thora? Why _couldn't _he love Thora?

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 3, Part 3**

_**Shakespearean **_

And that was what Toki thought about as the steaming hot water washed over his body. That's what he thought about as he got out and dried himself off. That's what he thought about as he wiped the steam off the mirror and stared at his own pitiful reflection. Stupid, weird Toki...can't even kiss a girl...

He sighed and combed his hair, watching himself in the mirror. Normally he hated to stare at his own reflection because he usually seemed so melancholy and dull. Now, though, was smiling in his attempt to forget Thora and that old awkwardness. He wasn't that kid anymore, he was someone else, wasn't he? He could kiss a girl—and like it—if he wanted to, couldn't he?

All of these thoughts ran thru his head as he put on his clothes. He also thought of Pickles and how nice the drummer had been to him. He had never understood Pickles' genuine concern over him, but that didn't mean he disliked it. In fact he sort of craved the attention. It seemed as though the drummer was the only person in the band that he didn't have trouble talking to; he didn't even really have to put together a complete, coherent sentence, but the drummer would still figure out what he was talking about anyway. Last night they'd talked a lot and Toki had realized just how well they understood each other. It was almost as if they were perfectly in sync with each other or something. It sounded stupid, but it seemed that way.

Just as he was getting ready to exit the bathroom, Pickles barged in, covering his eyes. "You naked? Can I look?"

"I gots clothes on."

"Oh, good. Sorry, but I just wanted to tell you 'dat—oh, you've already got those old jeans on." he frowned and added, throwing Toki his used, faded black pair of jeans, "I dug these up for you. Not sure if they'll fit, but anything's better than what you're wearing. What size are you again?"

"I...umm..." Toki's mind went blank and he shrugged.

Pickles glanced at the jeans he had thrown the guitarist and nodded. "They'll probably fit anyway. Later we can get you a new shirt or somethin', 'kay?"

"Sures. Thanks, Pickle."

And the drummer left him. Toki finished getting dressed then went outside, searching for something to do. When _Dethklok _wasn't recording, it was usually just a boring, do-nothing day. Just as Toki was getting ready to go take a nap on the couch, something caught his eye. It was an old, well worn copy of a book. He picked it up from its spot on the coffee table and flipped it over, arching a brow. _Romeo & Juliet..._what was that? Not knowing what else to do, he took the book outside with him, found some quiet place, and attempted to read it.

That's what Pickles found him doing. He sat down next to Toki, saw his look of severe concentration and listened to him mumbling under his breath for a while before asking, "Hey, you okay?"

"Huhs?" he looked up and nodded before returning his attention to the book. "Yeah, I'm readings."

He snickered. "Reading? Who wants to do 'dat?"

"Is do."

"Oh. Okay, I guess."

Toki resumed reading the book, but after a minute or two he put it down and sighed. "Fucks this. It ams too hard. Pickle, you wants to read?" he offered the book to the drummer who took it, stared at the cover, and grinned.

"Do you know what 'dis is?" Pickles asked, flipping thru the book.

The guitarist shrugged and answered, "Book?"

"No." he said, throwing the paperback down onto the grass. "It's nat a book; it's absolute and total bullshit."

"I...um...whats?"

"It's stupid and it's crap." Pickles said, glaring down at the book. "You wanna know somethin'? I _hate _'dat stupid book. It's the reason that I nearly failed my stupid Sophomore year of English. I hate it and I don't understand why the fuck you wanna read this shit."

Toki took _Romeo & Juliet _in his hands and flipped to the first page. "I think it ams interesting." and he pointed to the first few stanzas of text. "Ams all American books likes this? The lines ams weird."

"Yeah, that's because it's a play."

"Oh." he hesitated before asking, a brow arched, "Why ams we read play?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. The dumb book's probably one of Ofdensen's that he just forgot and left lyin' around."

Toki let out another puzzled, lost little, "Oh." and grew silent.

Distractedly he began to pick blades of grass out from the dirt. He'd never really felt the feeling of warm air unless he walked in a room with a heater, so he was excited to feel the golden, pleasant rays of the sun above him. He was just happy to _see _the sun. Usually in Norway at this time of year it was so cloudy and overcast that the days were nothing but bland and gray.

As Pickles began to explain the book, however, his attention was brought back to the present. He listened eagerly, happy to learn anything and everything he could. "First thing you need to know is the old, dead dude who wrote the damn thing." the drummer said. "William Shakespeare. Gat 'dat?"

Toki nodded. "Gots it."

"Okay. Next thing you really need to know is this—here, try to read that first sentence there."

_Two households, both alike in dignity,  
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene..._

But Toki couldn't read it aloud. He ended up slurring words, combining phrases, and just sounding borderline illiterate. He shut his mouth and bit his lower lip—a sure sign of embarrassment—and turned red. "I cant's dos it, Pickle. Sorry."

"Yes you can. Just try." he frowned and added, "If you live here you gotta learn to read English, dude. Sorry."

"But it ams too hard!" "No it's not! Look, just try again." Pickles flipped to a new page. "This one's easier."

_One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun  
Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun..._

Although Toki couldn't read this line any easier than he had been able to read the first one, it still made him smile. "Wow, Pickle. That ams really nice, huh? _Love..."_

"Yeah," he said, rolling his eyes. "Nice. Kinda stupid if you ask me, but whatever."

Toki met his gaze, a brow slightly raised. "What ams you mean stupid?"

"I mean..." he sighed and closed the book. "Toki, look, I shoulda told you this before we started, but nothing in this book is real, okay? _Nothing."_

The Norwegian still didn't get what he was trying to say. "What means you?" "Like this right here." Pickles flipped to a page and read:

_Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;  
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;  
Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears..._

When he was done he carefully placed _Romeo & Juliet _down and said, "All that bullshit's not even real. Love isn't real, it's just made-up crap."

A long pause followed his words, one in which Toki's look of confusion melted into a look of extreme disbelief. He took the novel and shook his head. "No, Pickle. Love _ams _real. You've gots to know that!"

"Prove it."

"Is...I...um..." he bit his lip again and his face twisted in thought as he tried to come up with an example to prove himself.

After a moment or two Pickles concluded, "It's no big deal, really. I'm just saying, y'know, don't start believing the things in that book, 'cause they're all made up. That's all. I don't wanna get you to start thinking that you'll fall in love, 'cause you won't."

"No," Toki repeated. "It _ams _real."

"No," he insisted. "it's nat."

"But...but...Gods, Pickle. Haven't you ever loves anyone before? Likes a girl or-"

"Don't you ever say 'dat." he said, turning red. "I've never loved _anyone."_

"Nots even your girlfriend?" Pickles opened his mouth then closed it again. This made Toki frown and ask gently, "You _dids _loves someone, didn'ts you?"

"Yeah, sure. I _did."_

"What happens to her?"

"Well...Toki, I..." he ran a nervous hand thru his hair and admitted, "...I was really young and really dumb and I thought she liked me back but she—she just told me to fuck aff, pretty much."

"Ohs. I'm sorry." Toki said, looking down. "I didn't means to-"

"Forget it. It was stupid, anyway."

"But you dids _loves _her, right?"

Pickles thought for a moment then shook his head, smiling sadly. "No, I didn't. I decided that love ain't real a long time ago." and he peered up into Toki's pale, unbelieving eyes and said, "It's just nat real. Sorry, kid."

"Don'ts calls me that. _Ever." _he said, glaring at the drummer and throwing the book to the side. _"Kid..._I'ms no kid. Don'ts ever call me that! I'm _nots _a kid; I understands stuff."

"I never said 'dat you didn't understand stuff."

"You thinks I don't understand love."

"Yeah, so? You don't."

Toki shook his head and rose to his feet. "No, I _do _understands! I understands better than you dos!"

"Toki, you're actin' stupid." Pickles said, trying in vain to calm him down. He took the book and got up as well. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or nothin', but it's the truth. Love ain't real. It's made up by this guy Shakespeare and every other stupid idiot who-"

"So you don't thinks that someone cans love you, Pickle?"

He considered this question for a moment. "No, I don't."

"Then that ams sad, 'cause I know that one days I'm goings to get married to someone that I loves and haves a family."

This made the drummer laugh. "Y-You think 'dat, huh? Boy, Toki, you really are a kid."

Toki had never been so mad at someone in his life—except for his parents at times. He'd never expected to be treated this way by Pickles. By Skwisgaar yes, and Murderface absolutely, but Pickles? Not knowing what else to do, he let out an angry yell, cursed in Norwegian, and kicked the stupid book across the yard. He turned and left Pickles standing there, his green eyes wide at this display of anger. As the Norwegian began walking away, the drummer felt his heart grow heavy. Stupid Toki...he always managed to make Pickles feel guilty.

The drummer went and picked the book back up."Toki?" he called. "Hey, Toki, I'm sorry! Don't go away, I'm sorry!"

Just before the guitarist got to the front door of Mordhaus, he stopped and turned. "What the hells you wants now?"

Pickles hurried to catch up to him. "I'm sorry, I really am. I'm a dildo. Here, just take the book." he forced _Romeo & Juliet _into Toki's hands and said, "I'm a fuckin' dick and I'm sorry. Seriously."

Toki stared down at the book and after a moment he began laughing. "I-I'ms sorry, too. I didn'ts mean...sometimes I just...don'ts ever calls me a kids, please. It pisses me off."

"Obviously."

He laughed some more and gave Pickles a quick hug, all of his previous anger immediately melting away. "I'm really sorrys I yelled at you. I didn'ts mean it."

"I...uh...'dat's fine, just let's skip the hugs and get back to the book, okay?"

Toki nodded and let him go. "Where ams we going to start?"

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 3, Part 4**

_**Savior **_

When the sun set it wasn't like the day before; Pickles took Toki up to his room and left him alone for the night. He figured that it would be enough just to give the Norwegian his own warm bed, but it wasn't. In the middle of the night he heard a knock at his door and was jolted out of his peaceful sleep.

"Y-Yeah?" he grumbled thickly thru his sleepy delirium. "Who is it?"

"Toki."

He covered his eyes and sighed. What the hell could the guitarist want now? "Aw fuck. Come in."

In a moment his door had opened and Toki was kneeling at the side of the bed, trying to shake Pickles awake. "You ams up? Huh? Please wakes up. I gots to asks you something."

"Huh? What, what?" he opened his eyes and switched on the lamp that was beside his bed. Toki was staring at him, his pale eyes wide with concern.

"Pickle?"

"Huh?"

"I ams cold."

The drummer rubbed his eyes and said, " 'Den get one of the Klakateers to turn on the heater or something."

"Pickle?"

He let out another tired sigh and sat up in his bed, realizing that Toki's problem was one that the Klokateers couldn't fix. He didn't know why, but he could read the Norwegian fairly well. That's why he tried not to sound annoyed or harsh as he asked, "Yeah, Toki?"

"I'ms lonely."

It took a moment for these words to register before Pickles was inquiring, "So what?"

"Cans I...I don'ts know...sleep in heres with you?"

He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Toki, it's one in the damn morning! What the hell are you doin' in my room?"

"I tolds you; I'm lonely."

He peered into Toki's eyes and saw that there was indeed some traces of loneliness and fear—fear of being rejected?-in them. Pickles had no choice but to move over in the bed and surrender his warm spot to the guitarist. Toki gratefully climbed in next to him and slipped under the covers, wearing nothing more than his jeans. The drummer then rolled over and looked up at the ceiling, ignoring it when Toki scooted closer to him.

Finally he dared to ask, "You always get like this at night? You always feel Alone?"

"Ja, but sometimes it ams so bad that...just thanks for lettings me stay."

"Sure," Pickles whispered, switching off the lamp. "G'night."

"Ja. Goodnights."

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

****A/N****

**Sorry if it takes me a little long to update. It takes me about two days to type a chapter—I only get an hour of computer time a day thanks to my horrible grades—and another day to edit. Anyways...yeah. I cut a lot out of this chapter to shorten it and it still had a good flow, I think [I hope]. And for the record, yes, I really just hate _Romeo & Juliet. _Sorry, but I just do.**

**Peace & Love**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4, Part 1**

_**Bad Justice**_

The following morning Pickles woke up by himself. He looked around, his hair a tangled mess, and saw that Toki's spot in the bed was empty. Frowning, he made his way downstairs, wondering where he could be. The Norwegian still didn't know his way around Mordhaus all that well, so it was probable that he got lost. He went into the kitchen and looked around, scratching his stomach thoughtfully.

"Hey, guys. Anyone seen Toki?" Pickles asked as he took his seat at the table. No sooner had the question left his mouth than Skwisgaar and Murderface began laughing.

Nathan just shook his head and grumbled, "Too fucking far, idiots."

"What?" Murderface said thru his laughter. "It wash fucking _hilarioush!"_

"Ja, you remembers the looks on hims face?" Skwisgaar said, doubling over in his seat, hugging his sides.

Pickles waited for their insane laughter to subside before asking with a forced calmness, "What the hell is so funny? Where's Toki?"

"He's-"

"No ways, Nathan!" the Swede snapped. "You saids that it was funny tos, so don'ts you dare tells him!"

"Yeah, jusht drag it out a while longer." Murderface added in.

"What the fuck are you guys talkin' about?" the drummer asked, stabbing at the plate of eggs that had been placed in front of him with his fork. "Did he eat already?"

"No," Nathan growled. "He didn't eat."

"Then what-"

"Skwisgaar." was all he said before taking a deep sip from his coffee and calling for a Klokateer. He passed the cup to the servant and instructed, "Put some booze in it, please. I'm about to need it."

Pickles' green eyes flashed in Skwisgaar's direction. "Where the hell is Toki?"

"I...I..." he burst out laughing again and managed to sputter, "He-He ams inside bathroom..."

"Okay, so what's so funny about 'dat?"

"He'sh crying!" Murderface exclaimed. "Shkwishgaar made him _cry, _I shwear to God!"

As Nathan took back his cup of half coffee-half booze, he shook his head and said in his low, harsh voice, "Too fucking far, stupid dildos."

Pickles threw down his fork and jumped out of his seat. He barley knew what Murderface was talking about, but he understood well enough to know where Toki was. Without hesitation he stormed out of the dining room and went to the bathroom. Before knocking on the door he took a deep, calming breath to regain his nerves. He knocked softly and asked, "Toki? Hey, are you in there?"

There was a moment of silence before the shaking, sorrowful voice of the guitarist responded, sounding muffled. "W-Who ams it?"

"It's Pickles. Please open up the damn door."

"I...I can'ts do that right nows. Suh-s...sorry..." and his voice broke and a loud sob could be heard from the other side of the door. Pickles sighed and backed away from the door, his hands shaking.

"Fuck. Gad damn it, what the hell do I do?"

He never had been good with these sorts of things. If Toki really was crying then he'd be at a loss for words, but what could he do? Just then the Norwegian called, "Just gos away, please. I want to bes alone right now."

That triggered something inside Pickles that he'd never felt before. Without shame he went and jiggled the knob on the door. "Toki, unlock this door or I swear to Gad I'll break it down."

"N-No. I don't wants to talks to you right now. Fucks off."

The words cut him, but didn't deter him. In a second Pickles was throwing his whole weight against the door, still trying in desperation to open it. It took a moment or two, but the lock clicked and the door swung open. Toki was sitting on the edge of the tub, his long hair in his face hiding the red of his cheeks and his crying eyes. The drummer went inside and softly closed the door again.

"P-Pickle..." was all he could say.

"I know. You hate us all, huh?"

He nodded and let his head fall into his hands. "I hates it here."

"No you don't. You just hate Skwisgaar and Murderface." Pickles leaned against the door and crossed his arms, trying to appear cool and collected. Seeing Toki like that, though, completely unnerved him. He felt that old weirdness creeping into him again, but tried to ignore it. Instead he said quietly, "I'm sorry about what they said to you..." and a thought came into his head. Curiously he asked, "What did they say to you, anyways?"

"They...Skwisgaar, he..." Toki shook his head and wiped his nose. "...d-don't wants to talk..."

" 'Dat's fine. You don't have to-" Before Pickles could even finish his thought, Toki had wrapped his arms around the drummer's waist and was hugging him close, weeping into his shirt. "I...Toki, look, 'dis is...I..."

What could he do? He couldn't tell Toki to get off of him without ruining everything, so he just stood there and let the guitarist hug him tightly and cry. It was so damn un-brutal, but he didn't care. The more time he spent with Toki the more he was beginning to realize that some things were more important than being brutal. That's why Pickles really didn't feel all that embarrassed as he gently laid a hand on the top of the Norwegian's head. "It's fine," he whispered. "Really, it is. I don't know what they said, but-"

"Don't makes me tell you, please."

"You ain't got to if you don't wanna. This is enough. This is-" his voice caught in his throat as Toki looked up at him, his wonderfully blue eyes shining brightly in the white light of the bathroom. He seemed so like a child then, like he depended on Pickles for everything. This made the drummer smile.

"I hates you." Toki said, sniffling and blinking quickly, trying to hide his tears.

This sent a stab of hurt and shame thru the drummer's heart, but it quickly disappeared as he heard the tone of the Norwegian's voice. It was a test to see how far Pickles really cared, to see how much he really wanted to help Toki. To see how much he was willing to endure. The drummer looked away, feeling his smile melt away and a solid lump forming in his throat.

"I...uh..."

"Leaves me alone."

"What?" he glanced back down at Toki. "You don't mean all that shit."

"Yes." he said. "I dos. Everyone around here hates me and tries tos fucks me up; why ams yous so different?"

"I really don't know." Pickles said, struggling to contain his own emotions. Seeing the guitarist like this was too much. It was so pitiful, so pathetic that it was almost enough to make him cry, but he didn't. Crying would be a little to un-brutal, even for him. Then he got an idea. He pulled Toki away from him and inquired, "Hey, you know what we'd used to do in Tomahawk?"

"Tam-hawks? Where ams that?" he asked, putting his hair behind his ears.

"It's this shithole town in Wisconsin, but anyways, you know we'd used t'do when people would try and fuck with us—people like Skwisgaar and Murderface?"

"What?" Toki asked, his old, childish affection returning. "What ams you would do?"

Pickles grabbed his wrist, hauled him to his feet, and walked out the bathroom. "Just fallow me and see."

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 4, Part 2**

_**Lesson Learned**_

Ofdensen sighed and began clicking his pen. "So let me get this straight," he said to Pickles, who was sitting on the other side of his office desk. "Not even half an hour after you wake up you manage to start a fight between Skwisgaar and Murderface; you walk up to Skwisgaar, pull on a handful of his hair, and punch him in his face, breaking his nose. Is that correct?"

Both the drummer and the Swede nodded and said together, "Yeah."

"Uh-huh. Then in a panic Toki tries to stop you, but ends up getting a black eye. Murderface sees the fray and also decides to join in; he does this by giving Pickles a kick in his-"

"Let's not go 'dere, please. I still can't walk straight." the drummer cut in, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His eyes were still watering from Murderface's sucker punch. The bassist scoffed at his reaction to Ofdensen's words.

"I wash aiming for hish stomach, but I misshed."

"You think?" Pickles exclaimed, his eyes growing wide. "You were aimin' for my nuts and you know i-"

"Permits me to interrupted yous little cats fights, but I needs another tissue." Skwisgaar said, throwing back his head and pinching his nose. "It ammnest bleedings again."

Ofdensen passed him a whole box of tissues and instructed, "Just keep your head back and it should stop. Now, as for you, Pickles." he turned his attention back to the grimacing drummer. "Can you please repeat your reasoning for starting the fight to begin with?"

"I...well, Skwisgaar and Murderface said somethin' fucked up to Toki, and I had to-"

"Yes, I know, but what _exactly _did they say?"

Pickles bit his lip and finally admitted, "I...ah, I dunno. Somethin' bad enough to make him cry."

"I'm sorrys." Toki said finally. His right eye was ringed with a black bruise and he was looking at Skwisgaar's bleeding nose with an apologetic expression. "It ams my faults. I makes to big of a deal out of it; I didn'ts mean for all this to happen."

"Well I'm very sorry to hear that, Toki." Ofdensen responded, looking down at his pen. "I'm very disappointed in you—all of you, but especially you, Toki. Being that you're a new addition to the band I would've expected better behavior from you."

"I knows." he said quietly.

"Good. Then you'll understand it when I say that as of today, due to your lack of self-control and the obvious danger you put the band in, you will be permanently kicked out of _Dethklok."_

Skwisgaar and Murderface exchanged victorious glances, but Pickles nearly ended up jumping out of his seat. "What the fuck?" he yelled. "It wasn't his fau-"

"We will also issue a restraining order against you," Ofdensen continued, clicking his pen. "one that will ban you from being within one-hundred feet of any _Dethklok _band member or employee. You will also be banned from any future _Dethklok _concerts and such for the concern of the safety of the band. Do I make myself clear?"

"Fuck no!" Pickles interrupted. "No it's nat clear! He didn't do nothing!"

"I would shut my mouth if I were you, Pickles." he said coolly. "Toki's not the only one who is in hot water here; you won't be kicked out of the band, but I'll make it my personal business to ensure that you are suspended for a one-month period from the band. No playing your drums and no inclusion in the recording of the new album—total alienation from all _Dethklok _business affairs.."

"Total alienation?" he repeated, his voice unusually high-pitched. "You can't do 'dat! There is no way that you can do 'dat!"

"Sadly yes, there is a way, and if you don't sit down I'm afraid that I'll have to extend that one month to six." Ofdensen said, crossing his arms. Once Pickles had calmed down a little, he turned to Skwisgaar and Murderface. "You two may go."

"Ja, thanks." the Swede said, hurriedly taking his leave before any punishment could be enacted upon him. Murderface left as well, smirking as he passed Toki.

"Nice job, shtupid."

Toki just sat in his chair, his hands gripping the edge of the desk with so much force that every vein stood out in his arms and his knuckles were white. His wide, blue eyes met Ofdensen's as he whispered with some sort of quiet, fearful urgency, "Kicks out of band? Reallys? Just likes that?"

"Yes." he said firmly. "Just like that, I'm afraid. It was a pleasure having you for the brief period that we did, though. If we wouldn't soon be having a restraining order against you, you'd be welcome to come back and visit any time."

Pickles felt his whole body begin to shake. He was pissed and so damn guilty. Not knowing what else to do, he blurted, "It's nat Toki's fault!"

Ofdensen turned to face him, his chair squeaking. "Really? So Toki's inappropriate reaction to Skwisgaar's actions had nothing to do with you starting a fight?"

"Well...no."

"Then what did?"

"I...ah..." he took a careful glance over at Toki and saw that he was staring at him with desperate eyes. _Please, please saves me...helps me..._

"I told him I wanted to show him how to stand up for himself. He tried to stap me and 'dat's all that happened. It wasn't his fault. I was pissed at Skwisgaar and was planning on fucking him up anyways."

"What would make you want to beat him up before Toki started crying?" Ofdensen asked, a skeptic look on his face.

Pickles thought for a moment then replied, "He ate my bagel."

"Your _bagel?"_

"Yeah," he said, nodding quickly. "Yeah, I had written my name on the little plastic bag thing and everything but he still ate it and I gat really pissed, so-"

"So you beat him up?"

The drummer continued nodding like an idiot. "Yep. Went right up to him and beat the livin' shit outta him." It had to have been the worst lie he'd ever told in his life.

Toki just relaxed and tried hard not to laugh as he said, "Ja, that ams true. Pickle really, _really _wanted to eats that bagel."

"Uh-huh." Ofdensen sighed and put down his pen. There was a long moment of silence before he spoke again. This time he sounded a little more agitated. "Pickles, I don't know why you're doing what you're doing, but by lying to me you're only worsening your punishment. You are aware of this?"

He shrugged. "I guess I am. The only problem is that I just don't care."

"Very well then. I will extend your one-month suspension to six months."

"And what about Toki?"

Ofdensen frowned. "Toki? Well, perhaps his punishment won't be quite as harsh. Since he's still rather new to the band and isn't all that familiar with the rules, I suppose that a one-month suspension is also in order. Is that fair?"

Pickles narrowed his eyes at the finely suited man. "Make it half a month."

"Two months."

"A week."

He thought for a moment and nodded stiffly. "Fine. You two may now leave my office." and he turned in his chair and proceeded to pour himself a glass of brandy. Pickles immediately got up out of his chair and exited the room, not even bothering to meet Toki's thankful, affectionate gaze.

It was too much for him; too much affection, too much hurt, too much innocence wrapped up in one person. Pickles couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand why he'd sacrificed so much for someone so emotionally muddled and confused. When he tried to make sense of it all he just quit, because it was just too much to think about.

To his dismay, Toki followed him. He walked with his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans and his head hung low. Only when Pickles had rounded the hall that lead away from Ofdensen's office did he speak. "Pickle?"

"Yeah?" he asked snappishly.

"I...I'ms really sorry I made you get in trouble."

"You didn't _make _me do anything. Nobody _makes _me do anything."

"You says that lots of the time, but-"

Suddenly he stopped walking and turned to face Toki. "Hey, look, why don't you just—I really just need to think right now, okay?"

"Abouts how much you hates me?"

Pickles shook his head. "Course nat. I don't _hate _you."

"Oh, I gets it. You just don't likes me."

The drummer narrowed his eyes at Toki and hissed, "Look, I know you're nat stupid, so stap actin' like it. Do you really think for one fucking second that if I hated you or didn't like you that I'd risk _my _fuckin' neck back there? That I'd get my ass suspended just to keep you from goin' back to stupid Norway?"

Toki shook his head and answered shyly, "Nos, I guess not."

"Okay, then. Now just—I really need...I'm so fuckin' overwhelmed right now..." his voice trailed off and leaned heavily against the wall, gripping head in his hands. "...I just need to clear my head—get drunk, get fuckin' stoned. There's just so much I gotta think about..."

Toki sat down next to him and said, not casting him a second glance, "You sometimes scares the shit outs of me."

"Huh?" he asked, shifting his gaze to the guitarist. He hadn't noticed it before, but the Norwegian was shaking, struggling not to cry; his face was so pale. "Toki, what's wrong? You look sick."

"I guess I ams. Damns it, it ams just that you reminds me so much of my dads when you was fighting Skwisgaar. It scared me, that's all." he hugged his knees to his chest and repeated, "Scares the shit outs of me."

"I'm sorry." Pickles said. "I didn't know your dad was, y'know, like _that."_

"It ams fine." he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Can'ts do nothing abouts it now; couldn'ts do anything abouts it when he beat the fucks out of me, either." his pale eyes met the drummer's. "Right? I couldn'ts have done nothings about it when he hurts me?"

And there it was. Toki had finally come out and admitted that there was a bigger problem with his parents other than the fact that they hadn't wanted him to speak English or go to the _Dethklok _concert. Pickels had always sensed this, but told himself that his worries were in vain, that Toki was really a good, happy person, which is what he always appeared to be—even now he was putting on that fake mask and smiling bitterly as he spoke. But still, it made him feel sick to hear him actually admit it.

"No, Toki," he finally answered. "You couldn't have done nothing about it, not one damn thing."

"Okays. That ams good. I've always sorts of wondered if it was my faults for not doings nothing, but what coulds I do? Nothing..." Toki's small smile faded slightly as a tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped it away hastily, trying to hide it, but Pickles saw it anyway.

The drummer rolled his eyes, hating the guitarist for how badly he was making him feel. All at once lost and forgotten memories of his own father came racing back to him, and with them came Sarah Simon's words:

_He's such a mean, horrible boy. I hate him..._

"Toki, have you ever...ever..." he didn't know where his question was going, but he did know what he needed now more than anything. With a shaking, wretched voice, he asked, "T-Toki? Can you p-please do somethin' for me?"

"Ja?" he asked, putting some of his long, brown hair behind his ears.

"I'm nat good with words or this sort of thing, but can you maybe just give me a hug?"

Toki's grin grew and he seemed to temporarily forget the trauma of his childhood. He went over to Pickles and hugged him tightly, securely.

_You think that just because you drink a few beers you're a grown-up? You're just a dumb, stupid boy._

"Toki, did I ever tell you about Sarah?"

The Norwegian shook his head and asked, "Nos. Who ams she?"

"I loved her, I really did. I fuckin' _know _I did, but-"

"She ams the one who didn't loves you back?"

Pickles hesitated before daring to nod. He'd never told anyone about Sarah before. He supposed that she was sort of his own deep, dark secret; the most humiliating and horrible chapter of his life. His _life, _because Sarah had been around until he ran away after high school. He had asked her to prom every year until he got so wrapped up in booze and drugs that he just didn't give a fuck about anyone or anything anymore.

"Stupid Sarah." he said, trying very hard not to cry. "I fuckin' _loved _that dumb bitch, but she was a bratty little piece of shit and said I was stupid and threw it right back in my face. Can you believe 'dat? Right back in my face..."

"Pickle?"

"What?"

"I...um..." Toki ended the hug and got to his feet. His eyes glanced nervously down the hall, trying to make sure that nobody was coming. "I thinks that she was stupids. I thinks that you ams really great and she ams a dumb idiot and you should gets over her."

"Forget her?" Pickles shook his head. "I can't forget her."

"Then just don'ts thinks about her. That ams what I do when I something hurts. Just don't thinks about it and it won't hurt anymores." and Toki smiled brightly. "It's the best way."

He considered this for a moment and then peered over at the Norwegian. He couldn't forget her, not as long as he was with the guitarist. He looked so much like her with his long, brown hair and pale eyes... he was so much better than Sarah. Pickles sighed and pulled himself away from the wall. He gave Toki a little grin.

"You're right, let's just forget. Let's just both forget all that shit and move on. That's good, right?"

Toki nodded. "Ja, that ams good."

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 4, Part 3**

_**Sign It Away**_

About three days later everyone gathered in the conference room. Ofdensen sat, clicking his pen as usual, his face gravely serious. As soon as they had all taken their seats, he began. "Although we've had a few confrontations over the past few days, I believe that it's time to for Toki to sign his six-month contract."

Pickles arched a brow. "You typed it up already?"

He nodded curtly. "Yes, and although I would've rather waited a while, the executives at the record company are eager to sign him on so that we can officially begin our work with Duncan Hills." he pulled a large packet of papers out of his briefcase and passed them to Toki. "By signing this you are fully aware that you and all of your valuables will become official property of _Dethklok, _am I correct?"

Toki picked up the pen that Ofdensen handed him and shrugged. "Ja, sures, whatever that means."

Nathan crossed his arms. "We didn't sign over our stuff when we did the contracts."

"That's because," Ofdensen said briskly, cleaning his glasses. "you didn't have to sign a brief six-month contract; Toki does. The stakes are higher for breaking it."

"So where ams I to sign?" the Norwegian asked, tapping the table distractedly with the pen.

Skwisgaar smirked. "Sos you ammnest goings to sign over all your stuffs?"

"Sures."

"And your life?" Ofdensen inquired. Toki glanced at him curiously.

"My lifes? I don't get it."

"By signing that six-month contract you will agree to the following terms-" Ofdensen explained, clearing his throat. He took out another copy of the contract and began to read. _"All personal affects will become official _Dethklok_ property, to be used as seen fit by any and all musicians and/or employees of _Dethklok..."he paused, skipped ahead, and added, _"The signer's life will be forfeit in exchange for a brief six-month trail period as the rhythm guitarist of _Dethklok;_ he will comply with the rules set forth by the other band members._ Meaning, quite simply, that if the band is put in danger, you will be the last to be saved."

"And also that he has to dos what we tells of him?" Skwisgaar asked, a slow, steady smile spreading across his face.

Ofdensen shrugged. "I suppose so, but let me encourage you to treat him as if he were-"

"Shign it!" Murderface urged Toki. "Jusht do it sho we can get out of thish shtupid meeting!"

"I just figured that this might be a big deal for you all." Ofdensen said, frowning at the bassist. "After all, once Toki signs this he'll be part of the band for half a year." then he said to the guitarist, "Oh, and just in case you find the language murky, here." he pulled out yet another large packet from his briefcase and passed it to Toki. "I've provided a copy in Norwegian for you."

Toki glanced thru the contract and then turned to Pickles. "Ams it good?"

"Huh?"

"Shoulds I sign it?"

He took a sip out of the bottle of vodka he was holding. "You really want _me _to tell you what to do?"

Toki nodded. "Ja, please helps me."

He thought for a moment then took then pen from the Norwegian's hand. "I honestly think that you shouldn't do it, but-"

"What?" Nathan asked. "He's been begging for us to sign him on since the day we met him!"

"Well, yeah, but Toki, you're literally signin' you life away. You know 'dat, right?"

"Lets him dos it if he wants." Skwisgaar said, glaring at the drummer. "His life ain'ts worth much anyways."

Pickles ignored him and placed the pen in front of Toki. "Do you really, _really _want 'dis?"

Toki gave an immediate nod. "Yes, more than anythings."

"Then go ahead and sign it, I guess."

All Pickles could do was sit back and watch as the guitarist signed his name. It hurt like hell to watch him do it, to know just what Toki was sacrificing, but he didn't stop him. If this was Toki's dream then who was he to fuck it up? Even if the Norwegian's dream did involve him having his stuff taken away and his life put in danger—or ended—on a whim...

Pickles looked down and bit his lip as Toki placed the pen back down on the table. "So I ams in the band now? Really ins it?"

"Yes," Ofdensen said, gathering up the contracts. "Congratulations. As of today you are an official musician of _Dethklok."_

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

****A/N****

**I don't know why, but for some reason I just keep expecting to get a really bad review for this story-I mean a really bad one. Don't ask me why, but I just do. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and remember that reviews are love-though hopefully they're **_**good **_**reviews****-and that there's probably only going to be three or four chapters left. **


	5. Chapter 5

"_Somebody check my brain_

_Check my brain_

_I walk the streets, I creep and fall..."_

_~~Alice In Chains, Check My Brain_

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 5, Part 1**

_**Something Odd**_

A few more months passed and soon it was the middle of October. The clouds began to grow gray and dreary and the air gained a wonderful chill. Toki spent most of his time inside, trying to escape even the slightest hint of the cold, while the rest of the band began brainstorming for the new album. The only problem with thinking for hours straight was that sometimes you needed a break, and that's exactly what happened one night as Nathan and Pickles emerged from the recording studio looking tense and strained.

They sat down in the living room and closed their eyes. Skwisgaar frowned at this. "Yous twos works too hard on 'dat dumb albums; you shoulds be like me and Tokis and never lifts a finger."

" 'Den it would never get done, dildo." Pickles snapped, rubbing his eyes. "Gad, I need something to drink. Murderface, pass me that can of beer you're holding."

He glared at the drummer. "No! Get your own!"

"Fuck you! I've been workin' all day and what've you been doin'? Sitting in your room watching porn? Just give me the damn beer."

He thought that picking a fight wouldn't be the best decision in the world, so he surrendered his beer over to Pickles, who drank from it gratefully. Nathan just laid down on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, muttering to himself. "Murder...what rhymes with murder? Sheep herder...life preserver..."

"When do I gets to play?" Toki asked eagerly. He was sitting on the floor in front of the T.V. Cross-legged like a little child. "I've been practicing alls day."

"You can play when I writes down the stupids rhythm guitar parts for yous, idiots." Skwisgaar said irritably.

"Writes them? You writes them for me?"

"Ja, and you ammnest plays them."

"Oh."

Skwisgaar sighed and nodded. "Yeah, ands I thinks that we should all dos something tonight. I'm tired of just sittings here."

"Do shomething? Like what?"

"Likes, I don't knows, go outs for strippers and ice creams or something."

Murderface nodded in agreement. "Hell yeah! Let'sh go!"

Nathan let out a long, tired groan and shut his eyes. "I'm too tired for that tonight, dildos."

"I'm not. Let'sh go, Shkwishgaar." and Murderface jumped up and hurried out the room.

The Swede rolled his eyes and called, "Fines, hold on for a minute, dildos!" he turned to Pickles and asked, "Ammnest you coming?"

The drummer frowned. It was the strangest thing, but he really didn't feel like going to any club, but he was quite sure that Skwisgaar and Murderface would make fun of him if he didn't. Hee nodded and grab his black jacket.

"Fine, let's go." before he walked out the door, he turned to Toki, who was sitting and peacefully watching T.V. "Hey, dude? You wanna come?"

The Norwegian looked up, his blue eyes shining innocently. "Comes to where?"

"We're goin' pick up some strippers. You in?" He shook his head and turned back to the T.V. Pickles chuckled and knelt down next to him. "You sure, dude? Trust me, strippers are better than T.V."

"Fucks this. I'm goings." Skwisgaar said impatiently.

"Yeah, I'm comin'." Pickles said before he returned his attention to Toki. "If you need anything just call a Klakateer, 'kay?"

He nodded. "Ja, sures."

"Okay, 'den." and he rose to his full height and walked out of the room after Skwisgaar.

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 5, Part 2**

_**First Snow**_

"This ammnest pretty great, huh?" Skwisgaar asked as he sat back and watched a girl pull her top off.

"Yeah!" Murderface said.

Pickles, on the other hand, just let his head rest on his hand. He downed a tequila shot and let out a long, exasperated breath. He was so damn bored. He'd never been this bored watching girls in his life. It wasn't that they weren't pretty, just that he felt completely dull and bland inside, like he kept expecting something amazing and sexy to happen. It never did. Instead he was left to just sit there in his seat thinking of being anywhere else with anyone else.

That's when he thought of Toki. The stupid Norwegian. Pickles had really, _really _wanted him to come with them. Suddenly the drummer found himself fingering the cell phone that was in his pocket. Skwisgaar glanced over at him, a deep frown upon his face as he drank some tequila. "Hey, Pickle, ammnest you alright? You don't seems all that great."

"Yeah," he replied dully. "I'm fine."

"You feels sick? You don't looks all that-"

"Yeah," the drummer said, adopting the excuse. "I'm nat feelin' too good; I think I'll go outside for a minute or two."

Skwisgaar and Murderface didn't even notice it as he got up and elbowed his way out the stupid club. The truth was that the more time he spent here, the more he began to feel like crap. It got to the point where he actually felt nauseated and sick to his stomach. As he went out into the cool night air he jammed his hands deep down into his jacket pockets and felt his phone again.

He leaned against the brick wall of the club and sighed, closing his eyes. Suddenly he felt very weird. Why wasn't he getting into this? He loved strippers, so why was he acting so dumb? The thoughts just confused him, so he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the first number that came to his mind. A bright, happy voice came on the other end.

"Hellos? Who ams this?"

"You know who 'dis is, dildo." he sat down on the sidewalk and pressed the phone closer to his ear, trying desperately to fight off the cold. "Hey, Toki?"

"Ja?"

"You doin' anything right now?"

There was a slight moment of silence before, "Nos."

" 'Den we should do something together or whatever. Get one of the Klakateers to drive you down and we can-"

"But Pickle, you ams with Skwisgaar and Murderface and the strippers, rights?"

"Yeah," he said. "But I'm not into it tonight. Just come over, please. The Klakateers know where we are, just tell them to drive you here."

"Okays, I'm coming."

It took about half an hour before Toki walked up and sat down next to Pickles. The drummer turned to him. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"They gots confused and didn't know where tos go."

"Oh. That's fine." Suddenly he felt like a fool. He didn't have anything to say to Toki, and all he could think of was, "Wanna go walk?"

"Walks?" he asked, hugging himself against the cold. "Walks where?"

"Y'know. Just around."

Toki nodded and rose to his feet. "Ja, let's gos away from here." he offered a hand to Pickles, who took it and got up.

They walked for quite a while, only stopping when they came to a park. There they found a bench and sat down. It was by a steadily churning little lake; Toki stared at it with amazement in his pale eyes. "Wowee!" he said. "That ams really nice, huh? In Norway the water ams just frozen most of the times."

"That sucks. It sounds like Norway was a fuckin' brutal place."

The guitarist nodded and said cheerfully, "But it ams alright. I'm not there anymore, so I'm happys! Happiest I've ever beens in my life."

" 'Dat's good, but what about when you were still living there?" the drummer asked. "What about the times when you weren't happy?"

The Norwegian thought for a moment then shrugged. "I was justs unhappy, I guess. I really don't wants to talks about it now, though."

"Oh. Okay." Pickles had planned to change the subject anyway. He watched as Toki looked up at the starry night sky.

"I likes it here with you. You ams really good to me, Pickle. I appreciates it."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "No problem."

A long silenced passed, one in which the moon was eclipsed by clouds of gray. In a moment everything grew bleak and dim. Pickles turned to Toki and took his hand. "Let's go. It looks like it's about to rain or something."

"Pickle, wait! I wants to go looks at the lake."

He rolled his eyes and released him. "Fine, make it quick."

Pickles watched as Toki went over and peered into the rippling little waves, his face aglow with childish excitement. "Hey, Pickle?" he called, walking dangerously close to the water's edge. "What woulds happen if I falls in here?"

The drummer felt himself grow tense with fear as Toki nearly slipped almost fell. "Well," he said after a moment of careful consideration, "You'd probably freeze your sorry ass aff and get sick."

"You would takes cares of me if I was to get sick?"

"What?"

"Woulds you-" Toki kicked a pebble into the lake. "-takes care of-" he took another step closer to the water's edge. "-me if I ams to get sick?" he finished by placing his foot less than an inch away the little waves of the lake.

"Toki, get back here." Pickles demanded. "Now."

"Woulds you?"

"Would I what?"

"Takes care of me."

"I'm tryin' to take care of you right _now." _the drummer said as he grabbed Toki's arm and pulled him away from the frigid water. "I said get the hell away from there, dildo. I don't wanna see you get sick."

"You didn't answer my question, though."

He nodded. "Yeah, of course I would take care of you."

And as he hauled the Norwegian away from the water he couldn't help but feel a sudden affection for him. This feeling blossomed as he heard Toki say, "Goods, 'cause I woulds takes care of _you. _You ams like my best friend."

He stopped walking and turned to face the guitarist. "I'm your _what?"_

"Best friends." Toki said happily. "Right?"

"I...uh...yeah, sure. I guess I am..." his voice trailed off as began to think.

"You know, Pickle," the Norwegian said, breaking the drummer away from his thoughts. "I ams really glad I came heres to America. It's so much better heres and I actually ams doings something with my life other than...just thanks, Pickle. Thanks for everythings."

"I didn't do nothin', so what're you thanking me for?"

"For savings me from it—everything. From Norway, from my parents-es, from all thems stupids kids who called mes a queer and throws ice at me...just thanks."

Pickles felt his face growing red as he whispered, "It's fine, I guess."

Toki laughed at his reaction. He carefully picked up a stone that was lying next to his boot and threw it into the lake, grinning when it splashed into the water. "You always guesses." he said finally. "Always when you ams not sure, you guess. It's funny, almost likes you can't ever be sure."

"Maybe I can't."

"Nos," he said, shaking his head. "I'm sure thats you can be sure abouts _something. _I thinks your problem ams that you're too serious."

"Me?" Pickles asked, a smile growing on his face. "You think 'dat I'm too serious?"

"Ja!" Toki answered, picking up another rock. "You never just shouts or anything unless you ams getting into fights; you just walks around all boring all the times."

"You think I'm boring?"

The mere notion hurt him, but the pain quickly disappeared as Toki shook his head. "No, you ams one of the best people I ever mets in my whole life, but you've shoulds just haves fun sometimes, that's all." Pickles thought and thought about what to say next, and this made the guitarist turn to him and say, "See? That ams exactly it, right there. You always thinks of what to say when you shoulds just says it. Like right now just says the first thing that pops into your head."

The drummer couldn't, because at that moment the first and only thought going thru his mind as he watched Toki throwing those little rocks was, _I think that I love him..._

"I...uh..." he swallowed and said, "It's cold. There, 'dat's the first thing that came to my mind. It's cold and...and..." his voice trailed off as Toki came over and hugged him.

"You ams so funny, Pickle."

"Thanks." he said sheepishly.

Toki pulled away as he felt something cold hit his arm. He peered up and a look of disgust came across his face. "Oh nos, it ams snowing!"

Pickles looked up as well, watched as the flecks of snow came spiraling down on them. They gathered in his eyebrows and his hair, putting a sharp contrast on the bright red of his hair. Toki watched the snow fall as well, hugging the drummer even tighter in an attempt to keep his bare arms warm—he was used to cold days in Norway, so he hadn't brought a jacket. The snow gently landed on the surface of the flowing lake, producing little ripples, and then quickly dissolving. They both watch for a moment, completely amazed by the little white flecks. Gradually, though, Pickles drew his attention back to Toki. He was surprised to see that the guitarist was staring at him curiously, smiling a little.

His pale eyes shined as he whispered thoughtfully, "Halo of reds hair and eyes green likes the grass in Springs..." with a careful hand he brushed some of the snows from Pickles' hair and sighed, his breath making a hot cloud of vapor amidst the cold. "...what people _shoulds _look like..."

Pickles barley heard him. He was too busy trying not to feel sick as he attempted to say what his mind was screaming. _I love you, I love you I-_

"Pickle, I'ms cold..."

_Say it now..._

"...cans we go?"

_Say it now or never..._

Toki went to pull away from him, but Pickles caught his hand and held onto it. "Wait, Toki, I...I lo-"

"Please, I'ms really, _really _cold. Can wes go now?"

He gave up and nodded, slightly disappointed with himself. "Yeah, let's go."

As he lead Toki out of the park, he hated himself. Why couldn't he say it? Since when had he had difficulty speaking his mind? He was loud and obnoxious, but he couldn't tell someone that he loved them? What was wrong with him? Loving Toki was bad enough, but losing all the courage it took to _admit _it was really pitiful. Pickles cursed under his breath as he walked, feeling the sick feelings inside him grow. He wanted so damn badly to say it—to scream it—but it seemed as if he was suddenly mute.

Toki seemed to be perfectly content, though. He walked jubilantly, kicking little pebbles as he did so, but he said nothing. Neither of them said anything, because truthfully nothing _needed _to be said.

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

**Chapter 5, Part 3**

_**Skwisgaar's Warning**_

Thanksgiving came and it went just as quickly as the first snow. In fact, it didn't snow again until the middle of December, but by that time the occupants of Mordhaus were far too busy to even notice it. Normally there was a strict no-Christmas-at-all policy, but that all changed one cloudy December day. Toki had just woken up and was yawning as he took his seat at the breakfast table.

"What ams going on?" he asked, eating some of his eggs. "Every time I turns on the stupids T.V. It ams all about Christmas. What ams Christmas?"

Everyone exchanged glances then immediately focused their attention back to their food. Maybe if they ignored Toki he'd just-

"What ams it? Pickle, what ams Christmas?"

The drummer took a sip of coffee from his cup before saying, "It's a holiday for regular-jack offs 'dat aren't brutal."

"Oh. What happens on Christmas?"

"Didn't you have Christmas in Norway? Didn't you get no gifts?"

Toki shook his head. "Nos, my parents didn't gets me anything. Why? Shoulds they have?"

"Well, yeah. Even my parents gat me stuff." Pickles frowned and looked down at his food. "Never had a Christmas present? That's fucked up, dude." And he began thinking. Suddenly a wonderful idea came into his brain; he looked back up and said, his green eyes glowing with excitement, "Dudes, we should have Christmas this year! We really should!"

Everyone else groaned, except for Toki. He asked joyously, "You means we get gifts? I gets presents?"

He nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"Oh Gods, thanks!" he jumped up out of his seat and hugged the drummer, nearly crying. "I ams really going to gets presents? Wowee, this ams really great..."

Nathan rolled his eyes at Pickles. "Nice going, dick. If you get him something we _all _have to get him something."

"I'm not buying any Chrishtmash preshantsh!" Murderface lisped.

Skwisgaar just sat in his seat, quietly watching Toki embrace Pickles. Once the hug was done he gently put down his fork and drank down the rest of his coffee. Finally he said, politely and so quietly that he was nearly inaudible, "Pickle, can I please be speaking to you outside?"

The drummer got up and followed the Swede out into the hall, where he stopped and asked, leaning casually against the wall, "What's up?"

"It ammnest about...hows do I put this?" Skwisgaar sighed and ran a hand thru his hair in thought. "I..." he shook his head and closed his mouth, clearly trying to choose each word very carefully. After a minute or two he said, "I've been noticing somthings that I thinks are reallys, _really _wrong."

"What do you mean _wrong?"_

"Betweens you and Toki."

Pickles felt his heart drop. All he could say was, "Oh."

"Ja, ands I thinks you should maybe hears what I gots to say."

"You think 'dat, huh?"

He nodded and crossed his arms over his thin chest. "Ja. Looks, I'm nots trying to cause trouble—not not mores. Just listens to me. _I don't wants to have Christmas for that littles dildo."_

"Skwisgaar, please! C'mon!" Pickles begged. "It's his first damn year in America, and-"

"I'ms not going to be wons over 'cause he ams a pity case; it's goings to take more."

"But he wants it so damn bad! Did you see how happy he got? How-"

"How quickly hims jumps all over you?" the Swede completed, studying Pickles' every expression carefully. "Christmas ammnest only half the problem, Pickle." he spoke calmly, narrowing his eyes at the drummer. "There ams I bigger problem that I see. A _much _biggers problem."

"Which is?"

"Pickle, look," Skwisgaar began, sighing deeply. "you two spends a lot of time together, and that's fine, but he ams just a nineteen-year-olds kid. A boy. Do you gets that?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, he's nineteen. So what?"

The Swede chuckled and said under his breath, "Gods, you really think I ammnest blind, don't you?"

"What?" Pickles asked, feeling a small spark of anger flow thru him. He glared at Skwisgaar and snapped, "What the fuck did you say?"

"Looks, I'm not stupid or blind." the Swede said coolly. "And I sees how you looks at him—it's _disgusting."_

"What're you talkin' abo—"

"Don'ts fucks with me!" Skwisgaar yelled in a sudden rage. "I'ms not dumb! I sees what Nathans and Murderface ignores, what they _can'ts _see. Pickle, you likes that little idiots, don't you? You _loves _him."

He shook his head. "Course I don't. 'Dat would be-"

"Disgustings and sick." Skwisgaar said, his voice a dangerous hiss. "And I swears to God, if I even thinks that you ammnest fucking with him—tryings to take advantage of hims...everyone tried to takes advantage of mes when _I _came to America, but I won'ts lets that happen to him."

"I'm nat doing anything with him! I never was!"

"Then tells that to the fans whenever they sees him hugging you like that!" he said harshly. "Makes them believe that you two ams not like that. If they sees that in public, everyones will go crazy, you know 'dat? They'll stops buying our albums because it ams _disgusting. _You know it, don'ts you?"

"Course I do!" Pickles said, looking down. "And I don't like him!"

"And he ammnest just nineteen. _Nineteen, _Pickle!" and Skwisgaar shut his mouth and shook his head. He took a moment to calm down before continuing. "I knews we shouldn't haves signed him on—he ams just too _young..."_

"No," the drummer insisted. "he's nat. He's probably the most grown-up kid I've ever met in my life."

"But he ammnest stills a kid."

He smiled bitterly. "Yeah, I guess he is, huh?"

Pickles tried not to think about how pissed Toki would be if he could hear their conversation right now. Still, it was true. He himself was twenty-three; it was madness, the age gap that lay between him and Toki. But still, his mind told him that it was just four years, which really wasn't all _that _long.

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

****A/N****

**What can I say? No complaints. I have this habit of checking my e-mail in my sleep via my iPod, so I woke myself up at 1 A.M. doing that this morning—the screen is so bright that it wakes me up—and saw that I had a bunch of review notifications. Thank you all. It was a lifesaver on a damn Monday morning. ^_^ **

**Peace & Love to you.**

**Oh, and I lied. There's only one more chapter left. Yays.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6, Part 1**

_**Merry Christmas**_

"C'mon, Toki. Wake up, it's time."

At the soft, coaxing sound of Pickles' voice, the Norwegian opened his eyes. "Hmm? Wh...what time ams it?"

"Early enough for Christmas. C'mon, you gat presents."

"P-Presents?" he shot out of his bed and fumbled to open the door. Before he could, though, Pickles stopped him and held up a pair of black jeans.

"Put your pants an, dildo."

"Ohs." Toki turned red and raced to put on his pants. Once he had he grabbed the drummer's hand and hurried downstairs. "I really gots them?" he asked, running to the living room. Pickles had to hurry to keep up.

"Yeah, lots of them."

It was around four in the morning, but everyone had still gathered in the living room to pay tribute to Toki's first Christmas. Though Skwisgaar and Murderface were half asleep as the Norwegian came running into the room, they quickly awoke.

"Uh?" Skwisgaar asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "It ammnest time? He ams—hey, Tokis. Merry Christmas, dildos." and he closed his eyes again.

Murderface didn't even bother to say anything. He just went right back to sleep and curled up into a ball on the couch. Nathan, however, was wide awake and sipping on a steaming cup of coffee. "Yeah, whatever. Merry...I dunno...Christmas, I guess. I-" he was cut off as Toki launched himself into his arms, sobbing dryly.

"Thanks you so much! Thanks all of you!"

Nathan's pale face turned red as he tried to pull the guitarist off him. "Yeah, you should get off me. Now."

Toki then went to hug Skwisgaar. The Swede groggily patted the other man's shoulder and said tiredly, "Ja, it ammnest all goods. Leaves me be now, please."

The whole room was full of presents. It was almost as if in the course of this one morning every single Christmas that Toki had ever missed in his life was being made up for. Of course Pickles was the one who had been stuck buying most of the presents, though Skwisgaar, Murderface, and Nathan had contributed quite a bit. It seemed as though Toki had gone from being hated to a sort of little brother for everyone in the band.

When it was Pickles' turn to get a hug, Toki didn't end it as quickly as he'd ended the others. He whispered, "You dids all this, didn'ts you?"

"Yeah, most of it."

"Thanks you so much. I really don't knows whats to say...you ams all the best family I've ever hads."

"It's fine. Seriously. Just go and open your presents."

"I got somethings for you, too." and he forced a present into Pickles' hand and finally ended the hug, but not before his lips had brushed the drummer's cheek. Only then, once Pickles was left to stand there with the present in his stand blushing insanely, did Toki go and begin to unwrap his first present.

There were lots of things, and Toki finally finished unwrapping the last one about an hour later. By then Ofdensen had heard the commotion and come down from his office as well—he had worked all Christmas night to ensure that _Dethklok _would have a gig the following month. Once he saw the mess of wrapping paper, he sighed.

"Great. Now we have a mess to clean up. Klokateers, please come!"

In a moment about a dozen Klokateers were standing by. "Wait until he's done then clean up the mess, please."

"Very well, sire."

Once Toki had finished he told everyone thanks one more time before going over to Pickles. "You opened my presents yet?"

He shook his head. "I wanted to wait."

"Okays. Do you thinks we can go walk?" he gave Skwisgaar, Murderface, and Nathan an almost nervous glance and added, "Outsides?"

"In the snow? But I thought you hated the-"

"Let's just go."

He followed Toki outside and into the snowy white lawn. Once outside, Toki smiled and threw his head back. He wore nothing other than his jeans, but the cold really seemed to have no effect on him. He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, laughing when he managed to swallow a flake of the falling snow. Pickles watched and smiled.

"Gad, you're such an idiot" he said, punching Toki lightly on the shoulder. "So weird..."

The Norwegian closed his mouth and asked, his voice full of a sudden seriousness, "You thinks I ams weird?"

"What? No, I just meant-"

" 'Cause I'm nots."

All signs of laughter melted from Pickles' face. "Yeah, I know. You're not weird. Sorry. I meant it in a good way."

Toki frowned. "Weird ams good?"

"Sure." he said. "Normal his boring."

And suddenly the guitarist was laughing again, walking around in the snow in his bare feet. Pickles followed him, looking out at the blanket of white that covered the grounds of Mordhaus. Snow. So much damn snow. He sighed and a chill ran thru his spine as the wind blew; he was freezing in his jacket. Toki didn't notice, though. He was in his own world of childish delight. Suddenly he stopped walking and fell backwards into the snow, his arms and legs spread out.

"Snow angel." he explained simply, staring up at the velvety black sky. It was about five in the morning now, but still completely dark.

"Yeah," Pickles said as he went over and fell into the snow next to him. "an angel." He watched as sparkling flecks of snow fell on Toki's bare frame and and melted, creating little drops of water. He smiled as the Norwegian sat up.

"You opens my present now?"

"You really want me to, huh?"

He nodded and added, "Ja, it ams really good!"

Pickles pulled the present out of his pocket and tore open the wrapping paper. It was a new copy of a book, one that was entitled, _Romeo & Juliet. _He let out a groan and threw the book to the ground, glaring at it.

"Toki, I hate you. I really do."

The Norwegian pointed at the book and laughed. "Pickle, your face ams so funny! I loves it! I loves..." his voice trailed off and his laughter quickly melted away. He took the drummer's hand and said, "Comes on, let's walks, please."

"Okay, okay. Hold an." Pickles picked up the book and dusted some snow off of it before carefully putting it in his jacket pocket. He followed Toki farther down the icy driveway.

It continued snowing as they trudged along, both ignoring the soft crunch of snow beneath their feet. Finally Pickles stopped and looked up. The darkness was beginning to melt into a sea of dead grayness, but the twinkling stars still glittered in the sky above.

"Pickle, why you stops walking?"

He shook himself and stared at the guitarist. "I...huh? What?"

"You wants to go inside? Stops walking?"

_I've gotta say it, just gotta say it..._

Pickles cleared his throat and put his hands in his pockets. "I—Toki, I need to tell you somethin'."

He arched a brow. "Okays. What?"

"I...Gad, please, just let me...I feel sick." he ran a shaking hand thru his hair and closed his eyes tightly, trying to get the beautiful sight of Toki standing there in the snow, so innocent and perfect, out of his mind.

"What ams wrong? Are yous okay?"

"No—yeah, I'm fine. Just look." he opened his eyes and pulled Toki closer to him. "I've _gotta _tell you something...it's something really important..."

_Please just say it. Just say it and get ready for the pain..._

Toki took a step nearer him. They were so damn close...Pickles felt his heart begin to race, heard it pounding loudly in his ears. Nobody had ever made him feel like this in his life—not even Sarah—so what did it mean? He already knew what it meant, but was too scared to really think about it, so he began just rambling.

"Toki, you're the best fuckin' person in the world and I really, really am so glad that I gave you a chance that day back in Norway." the words were coming out quickly, all at once. "And I love talking to you and stuff because you're so funny and amazing and perfect and I always wanna be with you like this. I always wanna just talk with you and shit because it's really nice and it makes me so fuckin' happy. You make me the happiest I've ever been in my damn life, and-"

"Pickle, you talks a lot. What ams you trying to say?" he looked down to his boots and reached for the drummer's hand. "You says too many things."

"Toki, look at me." he pulled his hand out of the guitarist's grasp and gently pressed it to Toki's cheek. He held the Norwegian's perfectly angelic face in his hands, feeling the color rising to his face. "I love you."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he braced himself for a heartbreaking pain, but it never came. What did come was a dry, tearless little sob from Toki. He wrapped his arms around the Pickles' waist and pulled him as close as he could.

His shirtless frame heaved as he cried, "Pickle, I loves you so much, but I'ms...I'm..."

"You're what, Toki?"

"I'ms just sos confused when I'ms around you, 'cause I knows that you don't love me, but-"

"No, Toki. Just be quiet for a minute, okay?" when the Norwegian grew quiet he asked calmly, "Do you really love me—want to be with me?"

He just smiled up at the drummer and nodded. "Mores than anything in the whole damn world."

"Oh Gad, this is too..."

It was too everything. The mere thought that he'd ever done anything to deserve the guitarist's love was laughable. As Toki stood there in his arms shaking with emotion, Picklescouldn't help but to laugh. He laughed, kissed the top of the guitarist's head, and ran his hands thru Toki's hair, loving every minute that they were together like this...

"You're nots going to leaves me? Never, no matter whats?"

"N-No, I..." and his voice trailed off. In his happiness Pickles had failed to think of one thing—the one thing that could tear the whole band apart. Slowly he ended their embrace and backed away from Toki, shaking his head. "No, we...we can't do 'dis. Not now. We-"

All the joy on Toki's face evaporated. He stood there in the snow, his arms limp at his sides. "What? But you just saids you loves me. Didn't you means it?"

"Of course I did, but Gad damn it, you're just too young!" Pickles said, trying in desperation to make him understand. "You're only nineteen years old! You're just a kid and too young to understand love or...or..." he thought back to Skwisgaar's words and added, "Toki, do you know how hold I am?"

He shrugged and answered pitifully, "Doesn't matters, I still loves you."

"No you don't, you _don't _love me_. _I'm twenty-three, Toki. You're only nineteen and I'm twenty-"

"I don'ts care! I knows what love is!" he said, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. "I know what it is and I knows what it feels like!"

"Then what is it?" Pickles asked, trying hard to hide his own pain. "What the fuck is it?" the truth was that not even he was sure if he knew what love was anymore, but when Toki spoke he finally began to understand.

"Love is whenever I ams around you, how goods you makes me feel. It's how I knows I can tells you anything and you won't hits me or hurts me, just tells me that it ams okay and makes me feel better abouts it, like I don'ts have nothing in the world to worrys about." Toki said, a tear beginning to make its way down his cheek. "That is loves! It has to be, 'cause I don'ts know what the hell else it ams!"

Pickles smiled bitterly. God, this hurt him so bad, but he couldn't do it. Toki's dream had always been to be a part of _Dethklok, _and if loving him would take away that dream—or even put it in jeopardy—then the drummer couldn't do it. He couldn't take away the Norwegian's dream so thoughtlessly, so selfishly. No matter how much this hurt him—ripped him apart, made him want to vomit—he turned and began to walk back to the Mordhaus.

"I'm sorry, Toki. It just can't happen."

But he stopped as he felt something in his pocket. He reached inside his jacket and took out the copy of _Romeo & Juliet; _biting his lip, he opened the cover and frowned. On on the title page it read in neat, graceful hand writing:

_These violent delights have violent ends_

_And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,_

_Which as they kiss consume..._

_I LOVE YOU._

_Please love me back and I'll never be sad or cry ever again._

Before he really knew what to do or say, he was weeping, standing in the snow a few feet away from Toki, openly crying. He turned back towards the Norwegian and let the book fall to the ground. To his surprise, the guitarist had fallen to his knees and was holding his head in his hands, also crying.

"T-Toki," he said thru his sorrow. "You're crying. You _never _cry, you told me so. You said 'dat you're always happy now, that you never-"

"Yes I dos." he said, wiping his nose. "Only the last times I did I was fives years old and I was cryings because my parents didn'ts buy me any birthday presents." and he laid down on the snowy ground and said no more.

"How'd you learn how to write in English?"

"I teaches myself. It ams not so hard."

"Oh." he hesitated before saying, "Well why didn't you just _tell _me? You didn't have to learn the whole English language just to say that you loved me."

The guitarist shook his head and said brokenly, "I...I couldn'ts dos it...you ams just so nice and I knew that you didn't loves me. I was so scareds that I'd lose you and yous never would talk to me again..." and Toki's voice trailed off.

Without knowing quite what he was doing, Pickles laid down right next to him, not caring as the flecks of snow from above fell on his skin; he took off his jacket, covered Toki with it, and laid there with him, watching the tears roll down the Norwegian's face and melt the snow. He didn't realize that he was crying too. Only when Toki dared to reach forward and wipe a tear from his cheek did he realize what he was doing.

"You ams crying...you _never _cries."

The drummer looked solemn as he said, "No, I do all the time. I just don't let anybody see."

"I ams seeing it right now."

"That's because you're not just anybody," he whispered. "You're special—you're the only person I love in the whole damn world."

Toki gave him a little smile and said quietly, "I thought you didn'ts believe in love."

Pickles thought for a moment. "I...I guess I never did until I got to know you. You're just so great." There was a long moment of silence that followed his words. This crushing quietness brought a question to his mind. As his feet began to freeze and his bare arms began to quake with the loss of heat, he asked, "Toki?"

"Ja?"

"How long are you just gonna lay here?"

He wiped a tear from his cheek. "Forevers."

"Oh. Then that sucks, 'cause since I'm stayin' right here with you I'm gonna be really cold."

Toki smiled sadly and reached for the drummer's hand. He took it and held it tightly, as if it were the only thing keeping him alive. "Before I mets you I was always so confused, but now that I knows you it ams not really so bad...you solve all my problems, Pickle. Maybe you cans solve one mores thing for me, so I won'ts be confused no more?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Pickle, ams it bad that I wants to be with you? That I wants you to kiss me? Is it just because I ams fucked up inside, or-"

"No, you're perfect."

"Then what ams wrong with me? Why do I loves you so much?"

Pickles hesitated before admitting, his voice a quiet, timid whisper, "I don't know, but I know it's okay. It's all okay, I promise. It's all gonna-"

Without warning Toki began sobbing. He cried so hard that his whole body began shaking and all he could do was just crawl over and lay his head in the drummer's lap. Pickles didn't stop him, either, because that was Toki's problem—he'd always _stopped _himself, never let himself cry or just be sad. He had to just let it out, and if he had to break down right now, if he had no choice but to lose control and shatter into pieces, then that was okay. Pickles could help pull him back together again, help make him whole.

So they both sat there, drowning in one another's sorrow. Pickles knew well enough that if he tried to pull Toki back up too soon, he'd just crumble again; it was all up the guitarist to decide if he would get over all those years of pain—to forget and grow up a little. No, Pickles didn't want that. The drummer wanted Toki to stay as innocent as he could forever, not to be torn apart by the world like he himself had been.

The only thing that the drummer did was sit up and brush some snow from Toki's bare, heaving chest. He also ran a hand thru the guitarist's hair and whispered comfortingly, "Ssh, it's okay. I know, it sucks. I know,_ I know..."_

Toki continued weeping until he had no tears left to cry. Eventually he quieted down and stopped shaking. His now placid eyes met Pickles' green ones. "I-I hates myself. You knows that?"

"But I love you."

He said weakly, "I just wants to die."

"No you don't. You're just sad, that's all. Haven't you ever felt sad?"

Toki nodded. "Of course I haves, but not likes this—this so much alls at once. It ams horrible...I feels sick."

"It's fine. You can be sick if you want. You can cry as much as you want and curse and just fuckin' burn the whole damn world—I don't care."

"You won't hates me?"

"Of course not. I'll love you forever, no matter what."

He forced a little, miserable smile to his face. "Pickle? You knows what I woulds really like?"

"Huh?"

"For you to kiss me rights now."

The drummer squeezed Toki's hand and kissed the still shaking guitarist until his eyes closed and he just lost himself. He really couldn't remember what his life had been like before Toki. Just empty and horribly bland, he imagined. How had he ever screwed anyone that wasn't the Norwegian? How could he ever live without this wonderful bliss every day of his life? He couldn't, and he couldn't' end the kiss, because as soon as he did then he would have to leave Toki. He'd _have _to leave, he knew that. No matter what, he'd step away and end it before it got out of control, before it consumed and destroyed the young guitarist's dream.

But it did end, and far too soon. As Toki broke away he was shaking again and one last tear was slipping down his cheek. Pickles delicately wiped it away and smiled down at him. "You know what we've gotta do, don't you? You know I won't be with you, that I _can't. _Not until you turn at least twenty."

"You ams still stuck on that?" Toki asked indignantly, sitting up. "I'ms no kid."

"I know, I know. You've been thru more shit and had to live with so much more pain than anyone could ever know, but still. I can't do it. Sorry." Pickles looked down and let go of the Norwegian's hand. "You wanna be the best guitarist in the world. I can't take 'dat away from you. You want a fuckin' family, a good life—a _normal_ one. I'm not gonna keep that from you."

"But...but..." he shook his head. "Nos, it ams not like that! I _choose _to be with you! Don'ts you gets that? I love you."

"I know, it's just 'dat—the stupid, damn the world." the drummer sighed. "Fuck the whole world. You know what the world would think if they saw me goin' out with you? Kissing you and loving you? A twenty-three year old guy loving another guy who's only nineteen...the band would fall apart. Everything would fall apart."

"But you ams not that much older than me! Can'ts they see that?"

Pickles said sorrowfully, "No, Toki, they just won't. Nineteen. _Teen. _That scares the shit outta some people."

"Thens I can wait! _Wes _can wait!" Toki said, smiling brightly. "I'lls wait for you—for a whole year—untils we can be together."

"You're gonna wait to be with me until you're twenty?"

He nodded. "Ja, and then it won't seems so bad, right?"

Pickles thought about it and finally nodded. "Yeah, it'd be a little better, I guess." The only reason he agreed to this at all was because he knew how badly he wanted to be with Toki, how much he _needed _to be with him. It was going to happen, one way or another anyway, but a year was good—a year for the guitarist to see the world and maybe screw with some girls. It hurt, but it was the best way, so he just sighed and repeated, "Yeah, 'dat's good."

"Goods." he said confidently. "Then I'll waits for a year...withouts you..." his face gained a look of sadness. "Damns. A year ams a long time, huh?"

The drummer nodded once more. "Yeah, it sucks, but I really wanna be with you so damn bad. I'll wait forever if I have to."

"A whole fuckings year—except countings today, right? I mean, we're already together, so why not..." it was clear that he was thinking very deeply about something, and as Pickles opened his mouth to speak, Toki said, "Startings tomorrow _morning, _right? Not countings now?"

"What're you talkin' about?"

"Pickle, let's just spends tonight together, okay?" Toki was smiling now. Distractedly he began playing with some of his hair. "The last night we ams together."

"For a year." The words sank into his brain deeply, left a deep impression. A whole year, and then if Toki wasn't ready yet, it could be longer...Pickles rose to his feet. "C'mon, let's go up."

"Ups?"

Toki was waiting, waiting for the answer he wanted. He was waiting for Pickles to say, "To my room."

As soon as he had said this, the guitarist jumped to his feet and slipped his hand into the drummer's. "I just don't wants you to forgets me. You won't forgets me when we ams apart, will you? No matter how many girls you-"

"Toki, I'm nat gonna be seeing anyone else while we're split."

He smiled and said bitterly, "Ja you wills. Stop lying. It only makes it hurts more."

As they reached the front door Pickles turned and said, "Let me tell you somethin' about love—it don't work that way. You can't just be apart from the person that you love and forget about them. It's impossible. You're all I think about—what would Toki do, what would he say? You're all I _care _about, so what am I gonna do for a whole damn year without you? I'm gonna remember what tonight was like and drink a lot and do a shitload of drugs. 'Dat's it. I'll be thinking of you every day, never forgetting. I couldn't forget you, not for anything in the world."

Toki turned red and bit his lower lip timidly. "Okays, but can we just talks tonight?"

Pickles nodded. "Of course we can. We can do whatever you want to do."

_Finallys I don't have to be alone. _Toki thought. _Thanks you God for letting me have him..._he kissed the drummer quickly and shyly. "Gets me out of the cold, Pickle."

And Pickles couldn't help but wonder...what is love, anyway? It seemed to be a whole insane mixture of things, so how could you really call it just by one word? It was confusion, it was affection, it was total and unyielding acceptance; it was wonderful, it was something you found only a few times in your life. It was something that should be pure and right, but to him it was actually beginning to seem very wrong. Almost terrifying...

...whatever it was, it was something worth waiting for.

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

_**E P I L O G U E**_

One year later all of Mordhaus was once again occupied with matters far more important than the recording of their album. It was Toki Wartooth's birthday, a a time of worldwide celebration. There were the usual happy-birthday things and all of that wonderful business, but Pickles couldn't help but somehow feel sad. As he watched Toki blow out the candles on his cake, he felt his heart skip a beat. They had both kept their promises—they had said scarcely one word to each other thru the course of the year. Neither gave the other the slightest indication of affection or even friendship.

Three-hundred and sixty-five days...twenty years old.

Everyone cheered as the little licking flames from the candles were blown out. Toki's eyes were shining as Pickles got up and gave him his birthday present. "Happy birthday, dude."

He took it and looked down, his face expressionless. "Thanks, Pickle." Everyone watched him open it and saw a look of pure childish delight come across his face. It was a teddy bear, one with a devil's tail and a big smile. Skwisgaar scoffed.

"Stupids, dumb gift. I bets he won't even likes it."

But Toki did like it. He loved it, and for a moment he lost himself. He jumped up out of his seat and threw himself into the drummer's arms. "Thanks you so much!" then he leaned a little closer and whispered, "I misses you so fuckings much."

"Get aff." and he pushed Toki away and quickly took his seat, glaring at the floor. Loving him hurt so damn much; if they couldn't even _act _like they were together, then how the hell could he even live with that? Pickles reached for a bottle of vodka that sat on the table and began drinking from it earnestly, taking large gulps.

Twenty years old and what had come of it? Nothing. He was obviously still a kid in the drummer's eyes. Toki watched as Pickles sat down and he felt his heart grow cold. He prayed that the drummer would still love him, that he would ask him to be his forever, because he wanted so badly to kiss him again. He wanted so badly to be loved again.

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

Later that night once the party was over and the mess was cleaned up Toki went up to his room. He stretched out on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, hugging his teddy bear close. As soon as the party had ended Pickles had retreated up into his own room with several bottles of booze. He wouldn't even look at Toki anymore, but why?

Thinking about it made him cry. He'd waited so damn long, and now Pickles didn't even _care? _Toki sniffled and blinked, trying to see thru his tear-filled eyes. He was so stuck in his own despair that he didn't even notice it as the door to his bedroom opened. Pickles stood in the doorway, holding a neatly wrapped present. He went silently over and knelt next to Toki's bed. The guitarist didn't even look at him.

"Hey, are you okay?" gently he pressed a hand to the Norwegian's tear-soaked cheek. Toki bit his lip and shook his head.

"Of course I'm nots okay; I thoughts you didn't care."

Pickles smiled and brushed his lips against the guitarist's. "How could anyone not care about you?"

That was all it took. In a moment Toki had sat up in his bed and Pickles was sitting next to him. The drummer reached for present he had brought with him and offered it to the Norwegian. "I brought you something. One last present." he slipped the little wrapped package into Toki's hand.

"What ams it?" he asked, tearing off the wrapping paper. Inside was a slightly bent copy of _Romeo & Juliet. _A smile grew across his face as he flipped open to the title page and read what he had written so long ago. "These violent delights haves violent ends...it ams my favorite lines in the whole book." then he met Pickles' gaze. "You kepts it? Whys would you do that? It ams a stupid book."

"Because that little thing you wrote is the whole reason that I bothered to wake up every morning for the past year." Pickles said. He said, not even looking at the actual words, "I love you. Please love me back and I'll never be sad or cry ever again." In the past year he'd learned the whole little message by heart. He'd stayed up long hours of the night reading it over and over.

"But you don'ts loves me back," Toki said sadly. "Not no mores. You thinks I'm boring and horribles, huh?"

Pickles ignored Toki's words and gave him a little kiss."Happy birthday, Toki. I love you."

Neither of them said anything for a while; Toki just laid back on the bed and rested is head on Pickles' lap. Honestly the drummer was terrified; terrified that if he got in too deep again he'd pull back and make himself wait again...but no, there was no need for that now. Toki was twenty, not a teenager anymore, and he was ready. He knew that the Norwegian was ready. Ready to be loved, ready to finally accept the fact that he no longer desired a wife or kids. It was a huge sacrifice, but clearly one that Toki had decided to make a year ago on that snowy Christmas day.

"Pickle, ams we really going to be together now? I'm so damns tired of waiting. Are you ready?"

"Fuck yeah I am." he took Toki's hand and thought for a moment before asking, "What do you think it means?"

"Huh?" the guitarist looked up at him curiously. "What ams means what?"

"These violent delights have violent ends...what do you think it means?"

Toki paused before admitting, "Honestly, I thinks it ams just all a loads of crap. The words ams so beautiful, but the story is just shit. Don't you thinks so? Don't you thinks that love ams dumb, littles kid stuff—not reals?"

Pickles glanced down at him and grinned. "Fuck yes. Love sucks. It's made-up and it ain't real. Only an idiot would ever think that he's in love."

"Only an idiots would ever let himself _falls _in love." Toki agreed, closing his eyes and smiling. "Only an idiots..."

**]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ ]][[]][[ ][][ **

****A/N****

**And there you go, that's the end. Yes, I know I've been updating quickly, but I'm going up to Mississippi for Thanksgiving vacation [-_-] so I wanted to finish this story before I left. It's a miracle that anyone even liked it, because I literally just sat down at my computer one day and began typing random B.S. **

**Sorry if you wanted to actually read about them having sex. I threw the idea in my mind around for a while, but ultimately decided not to include that in this story because I didn't want to distract away from anything else. Plus, sex is not love and love is not sex, so I didn't really think it had a place in this particular fanfic. It's not that I hate it, but I just didn't include it. Also, a good point was brought up about Pickles' exact age. I didn't know at the time I began typing this story how old he was-31, apparently-but this takes place waaaay before the first episode of the show. I wouldn't have made him that old anyway, because Toki would've still been 19, and although age is just a number, I thought that might seem almost creepy. Anyways, hope you enjoyed the story. Thank you all for reviewing and for those of you who haven't, reviews are love. **

**Peace, Love, TOKI/PICKLES **


End file.
